The Sleep-Deprived Sisterhooves Social

by Wise Cracker

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, DJ P0N-3, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Comedy, Scootaloo
Length: 27848

Scootaloo takes her Aunt Vinyl to the Sisterhooves. Unfortunately for her, Spike wants the prize, too. Unfortunately for both of them, it was a rough night for their unicorn companions.

Scootaloo's had her heart set on the Sisterhooves for ages now, and Vinyl Scratch promised she'd take her niece and help win the big prize.

If only Vinyl Scratch hadn't been up doing a concert the night before. And why is Spike joining in with an obviously sleep-deprived Twilight Sparkle?

It's a day of chaos, as it becomes a contest to see who's the better sister figure, who's got what it takes to beat the opposition, and who's going to faint and/or vomit first: Vinyl or Twilight?

Published 2017-12-17 15:40:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-03-19 13:42:26 UTC

Pachyderms and Pole Problems

Vinyl Scratch took a deep breath. Her blue dress glittered in the lights of Canterlot's Mane Street Opera House as she strode onto the stage. She bowed before the full hall, hardly making anyone out with the lights shining her way. Even if she was clothed more than usual, she felt naked without her sunglasses. To her left, she thought she saw the telltale blues of Wonderbolt uniforms, and to her right she caught the sparkles of the royal sisters' manes, but that was about it.

She had more to worry about than ponies tonight. Applause greeted her when her head rose back up.

The conductor of the orchestra below her repeated the same entrance ritual, bowing and taking the applause before getting into position.

Vinyl put on her headphones, a shiny white set made just for this occasion. A flick of the button and a touch of magic, and her panel sprung to life. Two record players were in plain view, the rest was mostly hidden.

The conductor tapped his baton.

Time to begin. The first notes would be hers. Everything rested on her shoulders.

It started with the waking call of the Eastern Plains cicada, slowly rising in volume. The orchestra stayed perfectly still. Next, Vinyl added a layer of growls, sampled from a very generous pet salespony at last year's Traders' Fair in exchange for a hayburger. Quite the bargain, considering it had gotten her the sounds she needed without any background noise to get in the way. The highs and lows of various canines and felines made for a good baseline to the rhythm, but all in all it was quiet, a mere warming-up to big event. Vinyl could feel her heart pounding.

Then the bells: the gamelan, favoured instrument of the Haybaleinese. Two high strikes to grab the audience's attention, a suppressed two-thrum response from the cicadas in the background, then two low strikes, more tweaks to the jungle noises, then a four-strike, a pause, and another four-strike.

The music and the recordings blended together beautifully, slowly. Percussion beats of jungle drums joined in, a metallic drum recording entered the fray, and the calls between orchestra and recordings became a fun game, almost, until Vinyl's machine let out a low hum, like a siren's call.

She smiled. No one was throwing rotten tomatoes at her yet. No one was walking out in anger.

This might just turn out alright.

The white unicorn stood out like a loose spike in the railroad among all the dignitaries and sharply dressed ladies. Her blue streaked mane hadn't been flattened out for the occasion, her tail was brushed, but certainly not neat, and she'd taken the liberty of ditching her dress after the performance, mostly for image, if not for lack of comfort.

Truth be told, she just didn't want to get any stains on Octavia's clothes. Her housemate was forgiving, but some risks are not meant to be taken. The Princesses were pleased, the few Wonderbolts in attendance had made a point to shake her hoof, the post-performance socialising was almost done. Only one crowd had yet to lay down their judgement.

"Splendid performance, Miss Vinyl," one of the dignitaries said, stomping towards Vinyl with the rest of his herd in tow.

Her heart skipped a beat. An elephant was complimenting her on her music. An elephant. That was like a wizard student getting compliments from Star Swirl the Bearded. Hailing from the far reaches of the Southern Continents, these fellows were notorious for their attention to detail in pretty much everything. The fact that they sported ridiculously large ears in proportion to their heads made their taste in music particularly sensitive.

Now, ponies were, by nature, a fearful lot when it came to the unknown, mostly because of bad experiences and instincts that evolution had yet to bury. Elephants such as these, though, were easy on the nerves, almost comical, with their wriggly trunks for noses and floppy sheets of skin for ears. Once one grew accustomed to their heavy gait and their massive presence, they were fun to be around.

"Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Where did you get your samples from, if I may ask?" The lead bull asked. "I've a wager with my companion here."

Vinyl gulped. "Err... well, the jungle noises, I got from a Trader's Fair. Some ponies deal in exotic pets, and some of those are kind of, umm... big. I was lucky enough to get a recording."

"Did you catch the species, per chance?"

"Yes, sir; I try to keep a label on all the stuff I use. There was a roogar from turkey country, a ligra from the Panda Isles, and an orthros. That's a two-headed dog: one head was pug-faced, the other was a shepherd, I think it was Mawlinian."

At that, the leader of the five elephants turned to a cow behind him, who nodded sagely. "But the jungle noises? Do you know the insect noises? Surely you didn't record those yourself?"

"Actually, I did, on a holiday. Those were cicadas."

The bull grumbled. "But what kind? The seven-year or the five-year one?"

"Both, now that you mention it. I caught them when both came out at the same time. I've been meaning to go back and get a recording of them separately, but... you know, only once every five or seven years... sorry I couldn't get a purer sound for that." Vinyl cringed. The bull noticed.

"Oh, but we weren't offended at all, my dear, it's mere curiosity. It was a fine choice to use as backing. I dare say few souls will have heard the sound of cicadas mingling. And I must commend you on such dedication to your craft, as well."

"Thank you, but I can't take the credit for that one. My friend, Octavia, she's got more smarts in that department, it was her idea."

"Octavia? Octavia Philharmonica?" The bull thought aloud, and again turned to his companions for a nod of confirmation. "Surely not the cello player from that lovely concert down in Manehattan eight months ago? Dark grey, flat mane, lovely eyes and a firm, strong-" He made a cupping gesture, eliciting a cough of disapproval from the cow behind him. "Err, ahem, stroke?"

And there was that infamous elephant memory. "Yes, that's her. We live together, and we've worked on some of the other more, err... 'experimental' projects in Equestrian music."

"That explains your range. I thought it was a peculiar rumour about you."

"What rumour?"

"Idle gossip and claptrap, I assure you, nothing to be concerned about. Just an ugly, scandalous rumour that, for all your skill in sampling and your obvious knowledge of rhythm and tone, that you are not classically trained and, would you believe the nerve of some tongues, that you can't even read notes."

Vinyl shrank before the herd of pachyderms. "Well... I'm learning."

This, the bull took with a shock. "You jest."

"I mostly play by ear, and it's kind of embarrassing to ask a serious teacher, with my, umm, my background and all. But obviously Octavia can, and she got me some books to start on. Usually I'm looking at sound graphs anyway; it looks more technical, but it ends up being the same thing in principle, so... but yes, I am learning. I can't read notes perfectly, but I'm getting there. Octavia helps me with the fundamental stuff, I help her out with the technical side of things and anytime someone wants more modern tunes."

A sage nod from the cow was her answer. "So it is true what they say: even the most different of ponies can live together."

"Yeah, we are pretty different. But we've got a lot in common, too. And speaking of which, I need to hop on the next carriage to Ponyville. Gentlebulls, miladies, it's been a pleasure."

"Oh, must you leave so soon? We were just about to go get some drinks, now that the afterparty's wearing down. Please, won't you join us?"

Vinyl had their backs to them, thankfully. She dearly hoped those big ears wouldn't catch the sound of her teeth gritting together.

A delegation of elephants, asking her to go drinking. She could join them. Octavia and Scootaloo might worry, sure, but they knew where she was and what she was doing. It wouldn't be a major crisis. And Vinyl hadn't promised anything.

Not only that, but these were elephants, and while ponies were not the most educated of species when it came to the world outside their lands, one thing every pony knew about elephants and their customs: elephants may have thick skins, but they never forget.

She'd just managed to score some points with these guys, brush up her tarnished reputation from her damnable lack of formal training. They liked her so far, as a curiosity. Elephants loved curiosities; they couldn't help sticking their big noses in them.

If she refused now, the next delegation would know, and remember. And the one after that, and the one after that. For as long as she lived, any visiting elephants would know: the white one with the blue hair is kind of rude.

"Of course I'll join you for a drink, hey, I know this awesome place just two blocks away from the palace. They've got this great cocktail with strawberries, rum, and peanut butter, you'll love it."

Vinyl Scratch awoke to agony. Something had drilled into her head, her right eye was blind and possibly bleeding, and she'd lost her left arm. Her breath was ragged, and the death rattle it produced only further confirmed what the rest of her body was telling her.

She was dying.

"You really must have that snoring checked, darling," a voice said, piercing the ringing in her ears.

Something wiped her nose and pulled the covers. Looking down, Vinyl realised she was not bleeding, or missing limbs, or dying. She was merely hung over, and had slept on her arm, leaving it numb.

"Ow, my head..."

Her housemate, ever the understanding one, gently held a warm cup of tea against the unicorn's forehead, right below the horn. That helped. That helped a lot.

"Octavia?" Vinyl dragged herself out of bed and shook her head. Big, grey Earth pony mare, beautiful dark mane and tail, vibrant pinkish eyes that could pierce a soul as easily as a needle could a soap bubble, firm haunches from standing up with her cello, that was still normal, at least.

"What happened?" Octavia asked.

"Mind if I ask that first?" Vinyl asked in kind, slurring.

"You came home last night, wobbling on your hooves, carrying my dress instead of wearing it. You did not throw up, but your eyes wouldn't focus. You kept laughing, too. I kept you as quiet as I could, so our other houseguest wouldn't notice." She nodded to the bedroom door.

Vinyl's brain took a moment to parse that information. "Scootaloo? I didn't wake her up, did I? Oh, no, if she saw me drunk-"

"She did not see, darling, rest assured. As far as she knows, you were very tired, and you are tired, still."

"Yeah. I don't think I'm good for anything today."

"Now would you mind answering my question? Why were you drinking? I thought you were playing for delegates?"

"I was."

"And you got drunk?"

Vinyl nodded. "Yup. They asked me to, and I couldn't refuse."

"Whyever not?"

"It was the elephants."

"Ah. Did you tell them about us?"

"Yup."

Octavia smirked. "Did they remember me from Manehattan?"

Vinyl chuckled. "Oh yeah. Put in good words for both of us."

"I suppose I can't begrudge you that, then. I'll be out today, in case you forgot, with Lyra, so you'll have the house to yourself, nice and quiet. I'll tell Scootaloo you can't make it."

"Can't make what?"

"The Sisterhooves Social."

Vinyl slapped herself, and instantly regretted it. "Ow! That was today?"

"Yes. You forgot?"

"Of course I forgot! I'm not an eleph-haaawhoa..." Vinyl's head spun, her eyes squinted and opened a few times as she tried to get her bearings. "Okay, I can do this. I'll take her to the Social, sign up, beat the snot out of the competition, no problem."

"But Vinyl..."

"No buts." Vinyl wobbled, then walked to her nightstand, and put her sunglasses on. Her signature glasses, the ones that would hide her bleary eyes. "I promised, and that's final. You know the rules in this house."

"Yes, I am aware you want your niece to grow up with a sense of integrity, but-"

"I said: no buts!" Vinyl stomped her hoof into the ground, gently, so as not to wake the kid. "Where is she now, anyway?"

"Getting us breakfast. You know how she gets when you promise to do something nice for her: she always wants to settle the score."

"Good. Then I can freshen up, eat breakfast, get my head back on the right way, and once I get some food in my stomach I'll be fine."

"Vinyl, please. You've barely slept, and you were performing for, what, a whole hour, in the Canterlot Opera, without a breather, without so much as a bottle of water? Even if you were sober, you would need to recover. You can't push yourself today. You know it's not healthy."

The unicorn grumbled. "I know all about health risks, Octy. Just because I'm not in the family business, doesn't mean I'm a moron."

"I didn't mean it like that, Vinyl."

She sighed. "I know. Sorry. I just... I said I'd do it, she had her heart set on it, I am not letting her down."

"Well, I can't exactly stop you. But on your head be it, Vinyl. You're going to have to be careful."

"Hey, careful's my middle mane! D'err, name. I mean name." Right at that moment, she stumbled and fell back on her rear end.

Octavia grinned. "I think I'm going to need to see some I.D. then, little missy."

Vinyl snickered. "Very funny."

"In all seriousness, Vinyl, are you sure this is a good idea? The Sisterhooves Social is a competition. Things have a habit of getting out of hoof there, especially in recent years. And you know Scootaloo wants the prize."

"It's fine. Scootaloo's the toughest little pony in town, and she's got me to back her up. Besides, this is Ponyville." Vinyl tapped her horn, grinning. "Who's gonna try and take on a Canterlot unicorn, huh?"

"Good morning, Twilight." Spike came waltzing in with a loaded tray, expecting to find Twilight in bed.

Of course he should've known better. He'd moved his cot downstairs again, as Twilight insisted he do every night she spent reading, so the light and the noise wouldn't disturb his slumber. He'd missed his goodnight kiss, but that wasn't unusual; he may not have had dragon wings or a dragon's size yet, but he certainly had the dragon napping down.

Another night of study in Goldenoaks Library, same as they had been in the Canterlot archives. He'd figured she would eventually close her last book, get to bed, and get some sleep.

She'd gotten the last one, at least.

"Twilight?"

"Huh?" The mare shot awake.

Spike, ever the attentive scholar in matters pertaining to overzealous unicorns, needed no time to make his diagnosis. Bleary eyes, drool on her cheeks, frazzled mane – without the residual sparks of magic abuse, thank goodness – and of course some drool on the book, it all pointed Doctor Dragon to the one conclusion. "You fell asleep in your books again, didn't you?"

Twilight squinted and groaned. "I think so, sorry." She sniffed the air. "Spike, is that-"

"Orange and strawberry muffins with hot cocoa. Your favorite."

"Spike, you shouldn't have. It's not even-oh, no, don't tell me."

"Today's the Sisterhooves, Twilight."

She slapped herself. "I know, I know, you told me before you went to bed, but I had to read up on this reconstruction magic and then it kept talking about the Pole Problem and none of these books could tell me what the problem with the poles is or why you would even need a pole-"

"I get it, Twilight. I get it." Spike walked up and set the tray on the tree stump table where they usually ate. "I'll put the cocoa away, and I'll warm up some milk instead. You just go lie down and rest."

Twilight closed her eyes. Her head felt like lead. She wanted to keep her eyes closed, desperately.

But she had made a promise. And she'd made it to someone dear to her. Even if Spike could forgive her, Twilight couldn't forgive herself. "No."

"No what?"

"No," she said, more forcefully this time. "I promised I'd take you to the Sisterhooves, so I'm taking you to the Sisterhooves."

Spike shrugged. "Look, it's no big deal. I can ask somepony else."

"But that somepony else wouldn't be me." She walked up to him and patted him on the back. "You wanted a day with me, and you've more than earned it."

"Umm, Twilight? That's really nice of you to say, but... I don't think you can really do much when you're like this. I mean, you look terrible. When did you even go to sleep?"

"Hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo, hoo!" Came a cry from the back.

"Assuming Owlowiscious can read clocks, about five in the morning."

"You can't go out like that."

"I can with a little bit of magic. I managed to pick up some interesting spells from this pile while I was browsing through them. Including a 'Stay Awake' spell." A quick zap from her horn, an electric shiver through her body, and she was fine. Her eyes were no longer blurry, her ears perked, her smile came back. "There we go. Now, I appreciate the breakfast in bed, Spike, but we've got too much of a mess here and I'd really rather not stain these books."

"Besides the drooling, you mean."

"Yes," she replied curtly. "Besides that. So come on, we're eating dowstairs." She took the tray in her magic and trotted down.

"Okay, if you say so." Spike tilted his head to look at the covers of all the books scattered around. "Huh. Rings and Gem Magic, Student's Aid Of the Classical Age, that's probably where she got that spell..." He tilted his head to check the title of the book at the bottom.

"Spike?"

He quickly thought the better of it. Trying to keep track of what Twilight was reading was like trying to count rampaging rabbits: the results changed every time you tried, your eyes had to keep darting from one thing to the next, and at the end you’d probably find yourself missing a few hares.

Hairless though he was, Spike didn’t bother wasting time trying to catch up. "Coming!"

Author's Note

Going to be updating this one more slowly than usual; once every two weeks instead of once per week. It's not completely finished at the time of writing, some bits in the middle need tweaking and the ending needs more actual writing done. But I'm comfortable with the beginning.

Update: forgot to mention the musical piece is supposed to be a reference to Ecophony Gaia. Yes, someone actually made a musical piece with jungle noises, Balinese gamelan bells and wubs. Same people who did the Akira soundtrack.

So yes, this is the Orphanhooves fic I've been talking about for... six months, seven now? I do apologise for the delay, that whole mess in July still shows its marks. Still, hoping to get some progress with this fic, get the ole' groove back.

With regards to timing: seeing as the Sleepover at Octavia's fic took place after Shining Armour married Cadence, this would be between Season 2 and 3.

Hope y'all have some fun with this one.

Oh, and minor teaser: this is Scootaloo at a Sisterhooves. What events have we seen that we know for a fact Scootaloo or Vinyl Scratch might have trouble with?

Free-Range and High Pedigree

Scootaloo was over the moon to be taking her aunt to the Sisterhooves, of course, so much so that she spent half the way there hopping and buzzing her wings, hovering over the ground as long as she could. That sight alone was worth the discomfort. Vinyl's headache felt marginally better once Sweet Apple Acres came into view. Her stomach still churned, her vision still blurred at times, but she could walk, and walk straight, and that's all that mattered. The alcohol would clear out of her system in a few hours, all the other stuff she'd imbibed to fit in with the elephants would wear off soon after, and after that it would only be a matter of fighting off the urge to sleep while she competed, piece of cake. As long as there were no sudden noises-

"Darling!"

The voice cut through her skull like a knife through butter. "Rarity, hi. What's the hap?" Vinyl did her best not to wince as she rubbed a hoof over her ringing ear. The non-ringing one drooped in a mix of sympathy and self-preservation.

Rarity came trotting over to Vinyl and Scootaloo with such a radiant smile on her face Vinyl was happy to be wearing shades. "Oh, I'm helping out with the festivities, of course."

"You're competing?" Scootaloo asked.

"No, Sweetie Belle is off with our parents today. I'm only here as a judge for the biathlon."

Vinyl and Scootaloo looked at each other, in that particular knowing way that only cynical lawyers, compulsive cheaters, and close relatives could.

Rarity noticed. "It's a sewing and sowing biathlon. I'm judging the sewing part, obviously."

"Of course," Vinyl replied.

"Are you two competing this year?"

"Yup!" Scootaloo said proudly. "Me and Aunt Vinyl are gonna take home the prize."

"I look forward to seeing that. The prize should be arriving soon, too, if I know her schedule, and I like to think I do." Rarity looked up at the sky.

Vinyl followed suit, and quickly regretted it. Angling her head like that gave Rarity a glimpse of what the sunglasses were hiding.

"Are you quite alright, darling?" Rarity asked.

"I'm fine," Vinyl said, moving along. "Come on, Scootaloo, let's see where we can get signed up. Later, Rarity."

Rarity snorted ever so quietly. "Yes, darling. Later."

"So you're sure you don't want your books today?" Spike asked as he walked beside Twilight.

"I'm sure, Spike. Today is just for the two of us. I can worry about that silly Pole Problem laturrr-" an electric jolt ran through her body, snapping her out of the creeping daze. "Hoo! What was I saying?"

"Pole Problem?"

"Right. Princess Celestia wants me to learn restoration spells by the end of the month, but I can get that worked out later. I just hope no one minds the spell I'm using to stay awake."

"Actually, they only mind if you use spells during the competition, prepwork spells have to be approved in advance."

Twilight's ears perked at the new arrival's voice. "Oh, Thunderlane, hi." Even in her sleep-deprived state, Twilight's mind quickly managed to calculate that, if she was looking up to see the dark grey pegasus stallion, she should probably look down for a lighter-shade colt, too. "And Rumble, hello."

"You two doing the Sisterhooves too?" Spike pointed a thumb towards the referee table.

"Yup, the whole event. You?" Rumble asked.

"Same thing. If they don't mind boys, that is."

"They shouldn't," Twilight explained. "The Sisterhooves Social was named after the prize, not the contestants. It was actually stallions who would compete for marriage opportunities, usually brothers for sisters."

"Ew," Rumble said.

Twilight chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm sure that part of the tradition isn't in place now."

"Yeah, I don't think Princess Celestia would appreciate that kind of thing nowadays," Thunderlane joked. "Rumble, why don't you go sign us up? I'm gonna go check the field for the first contest, see if the list is up yet."

"Got it."

Twilight nodded. "Right, the opening contest. I should check the list, too. Spike?"

He was already in saluting position. "On it."

"Sign us up, get our numbers, and don't forget to mention the spell," Twilight insisted. "It's Bitterroot's Stay Awake spell, they should have a rulebook with them. It'll say whether it's allowed or not."

"Will do."

Thunderlane quirked an eyebrow. "Why do you need a spell to stay awake, anyway?"

Twilight yawned as she walked beside him. "I was studying restoration spells last night and I got stuck on something, so I stayed up too laahuh-" Bzzt! Another jolt snapped her to attention. "Whoa! Umm, I stayed up too late, so I cast a spell to keep myself going. It's not a steroid spell or anything, it won't give me any competitive advantage."

The stallion stared at her blankly. "Uhuh. Are you sure maybe you shouldn't, I don't know, go home and rest?"

Twilight flashed him one of her smug Canterlot smiles. "Nice try, Thunderlane, but I'm staying right here, and I intend to compete to the best of my abilities. I promised Spike, and I can't back out of a promise. It's my duty as his caretaker."

"Ah. Yeah, I know what that's like."

"Vinyl... Scrrraaatch..." Scootaloo said as she scribbled the name of her aunt on the paper.

The green pegasus pony at the table nodded and gave Scootaloo some sheets of paper. "Okay, this is your number, the competition will start in ten minutes."

"Hey, Scootaloo."

"Hey, Spike." Scootaloo greeted as he walked up to the sign-up board, Rumble behind him.

"Hey, Scootaloo," Rumble said.

"Hey, Rumble."

When her brain had managed to catch up to what her eyes and ears had been telling her, Scootaloo furrowed her brow. "Wait, you're competing?"

"Uhuh," Rumble replied.

"Not you; Spike. What are you doing here?"

"Me and Twilight are gonna compete," the dragon replied.

"For what?"

"For the main prize, of course."

Scootaloo's heart skipped a beat. "You what? But the main prize is-"

Right at that moment, a wooshing sound passed through the orchard. It was swiftly followed by a rainbow streaking across the sky.

"Okay, little ponies!" Rainbow Dash cried out, making the trees shake. "Which one of you lucky kids is gonna win a day with me?!"

A day with Rainbow Dash. Scootaloo had dreamed of the opportunity for as long as she could remember. Not that long, considering the girl hadn't quite grown an expansive attention span, but it's the thought that counts.

Scootaloo growled at Spike. "That prize is mine."

The little dragon shrugged. "Sure it is. If you can beat me and Twilight. Who'd you bring?"

Meanwhile, Rumble had run into Apple Bloom, who was likewise surprised about his entering the competition. She huffed, she glared, she growled, but Rumble was not to be dissuaded; he put his name on the sheet, along with Thunderlane's, and he took the numbers, before turning his back on her. She, likewise, made a dramatic show of turning her backside towards him.

"I brought my aunt Vinyl," Scootaloo said, ignoring the plot twists between Apple Bloom and Rumble.

Spike scratched his head, confused. "You're related to Vinyl Scratch?"

"Well, yeah," the filly replied. "Who do you think was watching me during the royal wedding?"

"I always kinda figured you were one of those free-range chi-err, ahem, children. Yeah, free-range children, that's totally what I was gonna say," Spike stammered, feeling the glare from that free-range child. "Good luck, anyway. You'll need it against me and Twilight."

Scootaloo snorted before leaving him behind. She didn't even hear Spike asking about the stay awake spell.

No matter. She had her aunt with her. Aunt Vinyl was one of the awesome ponies around.

She wouldn't be beaten.

Scootaloo gulped.

Vinyl felt, more than heard, the cry over the orchard as Thunderlane passed her by with a nod. Her stomach churned in protest again, but she held her breakfast down with force of will. Next to her, another unicorn was likewise having trouble with the noise, if the wince was anything to go by.

"Rough night?" Vinyl asked.

"Huh? Oh, hey. Vinyl, right? Or is it Pon3?"

"It's Vinyl when I'm off stage, Twilight."

"Ah. And to answer your question: no, not a rough night; just a late one," Twilight replied.

"Saving Equestria again, one spell at a time?"

Twilight chuckled at that. "Something like that. No impending invasion, though, not this time. I got carried away by my homework, is all. But I promised Spike I'd take him. I can't break a promise."

Vinyl's heart and stomach both objected to that sentiment. "No, I don't suppose you would."

"Have you ever done this?" Twilight nodded to the site of the first contest. Judging by the size of the crowds, they were right on time.

Vinyl looked away, trying hard not to blush. "Oh, I know my way around a rope, a little. Just the basics."

"Alright, is everypony present?" One of the referees called out. "All the adults, at least? Okay, then we can begin: our first contest will be a roping contest. Show-roping today with a single toss and an open list. The dummy has been approved by the Equestria Games Committee, so be careful when you're tying up the legs; if they slip from the rope, they'll knock your teeth out. That means you, little ponies: do not tie the dummy from the front or back. Grownups, you're welcome to risk your dental health at your own discretion. The list will be posted shortly."

Vinyl looked around to scope out the competition. Applejack would likely be a hard one to beat, but Vinyl had a secret weapon at the ready to outdo her. Thunderlane was sort of a wild card, but she could guess he might have some experience roping clouds. Other than that, there was Derpy, Berry Punch, the usual mares looking to spend a Saturday morning with shenanigans of all varieties, no obvious contenders.

Vinyl tried not to wobble once Scootaloo came bringing their numbers.

"What's wrong?" the filly asked.

Vinyl shook her head, before sticking the number 43 on her flank. Twilight probably had 42 reserved for some reason. "I'm thinking. We've got some stiff competition here: Applejack can out-rodeo us, Thunderlane might out-drag us if he's used to roping clouds."

"And Twilight?" Scootaloo fiddled with the number, making sure her otherwise blank flank was completely and totally covered up, even if it was with a mathematical cutie mark.

"Oh, I don't think Twilight will..." Vinyl stopped herself when she saw the purple unicorn scope out the list of permitted moves and their score.

"Let's see, carry the two, allow for an error margin of two seconds, then... yes, that should do it." Twilight smiled and raised a hoof for Spike to bump.

Vinyl groaned. "Twilight's gonna try to out-math us. Of course she is."

"Can we beat her?"

Vinyl looked down at her little niece. She hadn't even considered the scores would include the kids, as well. Keeping that in mind, the strategy changed drastically, as there were only two kids in Ponyville who were crazy good enough to be a serious contender in a showdown like this. One was Scootaloo, the other was Rumble. Apple Bloom might have posed a problem if it was purely a strength contest, but Vinyl was pretty sure the girl hadn't done any practice with a lasso yet.

Which, Vinyl realised in her hungover state, was kind of odd considering how obsessed that filly was with getting a cutie mark and how much Apple Bloom adored her big sister. You'd think that's the first thing she tries...

"Well?"

Vinyl shook her head to stop that train of thought. "Yeah, we got this. Don't worry, kiddo, your aunt's got a few tricks up her sleeve. But we're only gonna win this one way: you do exactly what I tell you. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Okay, let's have a look at that list and see what we can pull off."

"First contestant: Vinyl Scratch. Ready?"

Vinyl took the rope, first in her magic, then in her mouth. She perked her ears towards the target and lowered her body to bolt.

"Ready."

"Go!"

Vinyl's body protested, but Vinyl herself did what all Canterlot ponies tended to do with protests: take note and file it away to address at a more convenient time, the more convenient times usually involving pigs with various degrees in aeronautics.

She galloped and swung her head around to get the lasso going. Remembering the list, she rolled over her left shoulder, skidded over the ground when her roll was done, and finally whipped her tail around one of the dummy's legs, before yanking and knocking it clean off the ground with a firm buck.

Once it was off the ground, a front-hoofstand into a second buck launched it up high, sending it tumbling. In and of itself not a major feat for a fit pony, but doing that while keeping the rope off the ground required a level of concentration and body awareness most ponies never bothered reaching for in their practice.

The crowd ooh-ed.

Applejack, especially, was quite impressed. "Wow. She's gonna try to rope it in mid-air?"

"Is that bad?" Scootaloo asked.

"Depends if she can land it. It's a pretty high-level trick, especially for a contest like this."

Vinyl was on point. The rope lashed out, found the dummy's legs, and cut off its upward trajectory, making it jerk and fall to the ground. Her prey now properly stunned and knocked around, Vinyl pounced on the thing and locked its legs using an intricate knot.

Then she sat back and sighed. "How was that?"

The judges nodded in appreciation. "Very good show, Missus Scratch."

Something stung in her chest. "It's Miss Scratch, actually."

"Pardon. Next contestant: Scootaloo. Get ready, please?"

As the dummy was set right again, Vinyl walked over.

"Are you sure I can do this?"

"No, so don't worry if you can't," Vinyl blurted out. "Just do your best, okay? You gotta go for it, for real."

"Got it." Scootaloo scampered to the starting line.

"Did you honestly just tell her she can't do it?" Thunderlane asked.

"I don't try to tell her she can just do anything, no, not if I don't know she can. And this is something new, so there's no telling." Vinyl chuckled nervously. "Oh, sorry, I, err... I guess that sounds kinda harsh. It's not what you think, really. It's just how we do things in our family. She gets stage fright, you know? Worrying about stuff, overthinking it... It's easier to get over it if you just accept you might fail."

"She's right," Twilight said. "It's a Canterlot thing. Speaking of which, Vinyl, that was a very impressive show you put up there."

"I'll say," Applejack said. "You ever do a rodeo?"

"No, I, umm..." Vinyl tried hard to hide her blush. "I learned it in the Canterlot Filly Scouts."

"You learned roping in the Filly Scouts?" Applejack asked.

"Canterlot Filly Scouts. We take pride in our diverse curriculum," Vinyl lied.

"That's also true," Twilight said. "I don't remember learning roping in the Filly Scouts, though."

"Maybe you didn't join at the right time?" Spike offered.

"Maybe." Twilight tapped her chin, pondering. "And come to think of it, that knot you did? I've seen my brother do that one. That's a Royal Guard knot, for tying up prisoners."

"Very diverse curriculum," Vinyl said, silently thanking the stars that Octavia kept quiet about their rope practice.

Vinyl turned her back to the proceedings, leaning on the fence and looking at the sky. Her stomach churned again, but nothing came up, and the throbbing in head was finally subsiding. A good bit of exercise, that's all she really needed.

Twilight Sparkle quirked an eyebrow. "Aren't you even going to watch?"

"Nah. She does better when nopony's watching, like I said," Vinyl replied, nice and loud so Scootaloo would hear. Rainbow Dash, who was now sitting in a tree a little ways away, apparently caught the remark. Vinyl ignored any glaring or grumbling the ponies around her might throw her way. She knew her niece well enough. She didn't need to watch.

Of course Vinyl did watch, though. She turned her head as soon as she heard the signal. Scootaloo ran towards the target, like Vinyl had said. Then the girl whipped the lasso back, like Vinyl had said.

Scootaloo tripped. This was not something Vinyl had said to do. She stumbled, and this was likewise an unexpected deviation from the master strategy. Then she chucked the lasso at the dummy's neck, which was getting back on schedule.

A firm yank, good, then approaching from the sides, and some fumbling with the same knot Vinyl had learned from Octavia after that one weekend in Las Pegasus (what happens in Las Pegasus and all that jazz), and the little pegasus was done. No overt stunts, no major ducks and bobs and weaves that would earn a high score, but it was done.

"Next contestant: Twilight Sparkle!" The judges called out.

Vinyl turned her head again once Scootaloo looked their way, to hide the fact she'd seen the whole thing. No one around her said anything to the contrary. "How'd it go?" She asked nonchalantly.

Scootaloo hum-groaned, in the same cute but sad way she usually did when she spent all night tossing and turning. "Pretty bad, I think. You didn't see?"

Vinyl shrugged. "You know me, kiddo: I respect a pony's privacy. Did you want me to see it?"

Scootaloo quickly shook her head. "No."

"Okay, then. No problem."

Spike kept his eyes firmly on Twilight as she made her move on the dummy. She did some zigzagging, some minor bobbing and weaving, but she went for a standard neck shot as the takedown. Another electric jolt through her body sent her off course, but she corrected it quickly enough.

Twilight's run was over quickly. The judges made no remarks on her performance, probably because of how mathematical it looked. Still, calculated motions were enough to score.

"Actually, Scootaloo, you weren't too bad," Spike said. "Especially for a pegasus who's never done it before."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Scootaloo replied. "Not like there's a lot of kids in town who can use a rope."

"Next contestant: Spike the Dragon!"

"No, not a lot." He grinned. "But don't forget: it only takes one to beat you."

Vinyl's ears twitched. "What?"

The dragon strode confidently into the arena.

Vinyl's heart sank as he picked up the rope. "Oh, no."

"What? What's the matter?" Scootaloo asked.

"Does Spike know how to rope?"

"He might, now that you mention it," Applejack said. "He did come by a couple of times to practise. He didn't do it for long, though."

The white unicorn groaned. "He doesn't have to; he's a dragon."

Applejack took a moment to let that sink in. "Beg your pardon?"

As Spike started his routine, Vinyl Scratch realised her error in judgment. "He has hands, with thumbs. He can do more tricks that way."

And more tricks was exactly what he did. He got the loop nice and big in a heartbeat, jumping up and over and sideways as he took his time getting into position.

Scootaloo's jaw dropped. "H-he..."

He danced through the loop, twirling it this way and that, hopping and skipping side to side. When he was done showing off, he caught the dummy with a neck shot and dragged it down, before tying it in a standard, common knot, that really didn't look any different from a bow around a present.

He got off and brushed his hands, strolling back with the confident gait reserved normally for the gentlecolts of Canterlot.

That's when it dawned on Vinyl why she'd made such an error. She'd figured she'd only be competing against Applejack and Apple Bloom, with Rumble and Thunderlane a close second. Together, Vinyl and Scootaloo could take Applejack and Apple Bloom, she was pretty sure of that. It was a close match, in her mind, certainly, but they could take it. Vinyl was, after all, a Canterlot unicorn of high pedigree. Not many things could stand against that and expect to win, not on this type of battlefield.

Unfortunately, other Canterlot unicorns of high pedigree could, and that's exactly what she now had to deal with.

Spike smirked victoriously when he arrived. "How do you like that?"

Scootaloo huffed. "Don't get too cocky. You haven't won yet."

"Oh, I think I just did," Spike said.

"Don't count your chickens before they've hatched, Spike," Twilight said.

"What?"

He ran over to look at the scoreboard. Twilight and Spike were listed with a score of 280, the maximum score according to Twilight. But Vinyl and Scootaloo had landed on a clean 420.

"How did you beat me?" Spike asked.

"She didn't," Twilight explained. "Beat you, I mean. Scootaloo's score was average, slightly below that. And mine was optimised as best I could, but I guess I forgot about the target modifiers."

"The whatnow?"

"The modifiers," Vinyl said, smiling. "You get more points for roping the legs, and for using different knots. It doesn't say so on the sign, but it's in the rulebook. Neck shots are standard, tripping is too easy, but an airborne shot gives you a big bonus. Most ponies at this kind of contest don't knock the dummy up to clear the legs. Or if they do, they have to use magic."

Spike grumbled and huffed, a tiny green flame escaping from his nose. "Well played, Scootaloo."

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Come on, Spike, no need to get upset. They beat us fair and square. Let's not get so distracted we miss the rest of the competition, okay?"

"Yeah, speaking of which, I need to make sure I'm watching out for the right ponies," Vinyl joked, moving closer to the fence to get a good view.

With the grownups not paying attention, Scootaloo took the opportunity to revel in her victory. "Guess we win this one. Nopony else is gonna get an air shot."

"Except maybe Applejack, no. But even if she doesn't, you won't be so lucky for every game."

"Psh, yeah right. Name any game, and we can beat you."

"Oh, I don't need to." Spike folded his arms in front of his chest. "You're losing the next one, I can tell you that much."

"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"

"Don't tell me you forgot?"

Scootaloo shook her head.

The dragon grinned evilly at her. "The next one is a singing competition."

The little filly felt the blood drain from her face. The ground fell out from under her. She would have enjoyed the sensation if her wings had been moving.

"Uh oh."

Author's Note

Not that much to say about this one. Was going to re-watch the relevant episodes sometime, but never found the time for it, so... let's just assume the Sisterhooves roster of events changes every year. Along with the prizes.

Twilight and Vinyl knowing each other? Last-minute edit to clarify they know each other from the wedding, aside from Vinyl knowing Twilight as a celebrity, obviously.

The Rumble and Apple Bloom thing will be background only, mainly because I couldn't work out a way to do it elegantly without bloating the story. This one's going to be a lot shorter than my usual multi-chapter stuff, but still longer than an episode-emulating fic would be. I have toyed around with a "Apple Bloom's First Rodeo" concept featuring Rumble, but it's only in concept stage right now and will likely be recycled elsewhere.

In the meantime, it's just some random fun in the background. Still need to finish the final few chapters, so I will hold off on publishing the next one, sticking to the once per two weeks plan until further notice. If it gets stuck, I'll let y'all know.

What? Pole Problem? Oh, that's nothing important. Nothing at all...

Library's Fading Light vs. The Desperate Raid on the Henhouse

Vinyl Scratch was trying to relax in the shade of a tree, hoping to catch up on sleep as a preparation for the next event. Scootaloo did her preparing by running around like a blinded chicken.

“No, no, no, no...” the girl whined, clippity-clopping about on the grass in a futile attempt to work off some of that anxious energy. Such was the plight of non-unicorns, who sorely lacked the ability to create, squeeze, and potentially obliterate stress balls with their thoughts. “How did I forget about the singing contest? I can’t sing! Spike was right; he’s gonna beat us.”

Vinyl winced. No catching up on sleep now, not when her niece was like this. “Relax, kiddo. We’ve got this in the bag.”

“How?” Scootaloo half-screamed. “We have to sing, Aunt Vinyl. Both of us!”

Vinyl heard a rustling noise in the leaves above her. She grinned, before raising her voice. “Look, it’s fine. I know you’re a terrible singer and you’re probably gonna make a fool of yourself in front of everypony. But that’s just how things are.”

The filly cringed. “What?”

Vinyl’s eyebrows bobbed up and down, and her right ear flicked towards the top of the tree.

Scootaloo pouted. “But you said you’d help me win. I can’t win all on my own. You promised.”

Clever girl. “Well, you should’ve asked somepony better, then.”

“I can’t ask anypony better,” Scootaloo whined, stealing glances at the tree. “You’re all I’ve got.”

Vinyl waited. No response came out of the tree. Nothing for it but to amp up the act, unfortunately. “Then there’s only one thing we can do. We’re just gonna have to cheese it.”

This took a while to process. “Cheese it?”

“Yeah, cheese it. You don’t know what that means?”

Scootaloo shook her head.

Vinyl huffed dramatically. “That’s what you get for being such a goody four-shoes. Cheesing is like cheating, only not. If you want to win the singing contest, we’re gonna have to skirt the rules a little bit.”

“So we’re cheating? You want me to cheat?”

The leaves rustled more. Vinyl grumbled. Rainbow Dash was in there, she was sure of it. She recognised the perfume: Aerial Acrobat, same thing Spitfire used. Still the mare wasn’t coming down. She couldn’t risk laying it on too thickly; Rainbow might figure out the ploy.

“Cheating is when you break the rules, Scootaloo,” Vinyl said clearly. “Cheesing is when you do something that ought to be breaking the rules, but the rules forgot to mention. We’ve got a leg up on the competition now. Two legs, even: for one thing, we won the last event.”

Scootaloo’s stomach didn’t think much of that, and let her know with a nervous groan from down below. Scootaloo herself tried not to let it show so much, because her stomach was a pansy like that. “What’s the other leg up?”

“Everypony in town wants to have fun and fight fair,” Vinyl joked. “What’s that girl’s name, again? The rich kid in your class? Diamond Cutlery or whatever?”

“Diamond Tiara? What’s she got to do with it?”

“Is she around here?”

Scootaloo scoffed. “No. She’d never go to something like this.”

Vinyl grinned. “My point exactly. A girl like that would be a problem here, but there aren’t any little kids like her around, so any grownups who are like that are gonna get the upper hoof. These sorts of contest are high-brow; they’re not that common in a place like Ponyville, meaning nopony in town is gonna know all the rules and all the ways to play around them. It’s easy pickings if you just know how to play the game. So use your head, kiddo. Think dirty. How does a bad singer like you score points in a singing contest like this?”

The little filly didn’t need long to ponder her options. “Sing really, really loud?”

Vinyl rolled her eyes, though the shades hid most of the gesture. “Close, but not quite. Think, Scootaloo, think. We have to pick a song and sing it as best we can.”

“But I can’t sing. Everypony always says I shout too loud. That’s what I do, I can’t help it.”

Vinyl nodded. “Exactly. So...”

The penny finally dropped. “So… we can sing a song that involves a lot of shouting?”

The unicorn smirked and gave the filly’s nose a quick little boop of the hoof. “Now you’re thinkin’ inside the chimney.”

Twilight paced around, thinking while Spike enjoyed an apple fritter for second breakfast. Or third, she was having trouble counting today. “A singing contest? Spike, what are we going to do?”

“Whash the matter? You can shing, can’t you?” Spike said with his mouth full.

“Yes, but not like this! I don’t know any good songs! I wasn’t prepared for this!” She stared at the little dragon then. “Wait. Were you?”

He gulped, then snickered. “I may have kind of, sort of already given the judges the song, yes.”

“Oh, Spike, what have you done?” Twilight buried her head in her hooves. “There are rules to this sort of thing, criteria you’re judged on for the song’s difficulty, skills you need to display to make up for a lack of difficulty. We’ll be making fools of ourselves.”

“Not necessarily. I mean, all I did was give them the music. I didn’t break any rules, and it’s not like it’s something you can’t sing.”

She sighed in defeat. “Which one did you get?”

“That song you started singing before bed. The Canterlot Unicorn Lullabye: Library’s Fading Light.”

Twilight opened her mouth to protest, to object, to do all those things peasants usually did when a unicorn was saying something they didn’t like and before said unicorn opened their spellbook to quell such protests. This, however, wasn’t such a frightening prospect. There weren’t any spellbooks involved this time, at least, that was always a good sign.

“Okay. Library’s Fading Light should be-” She jumped when another loud BZZT! sounded, jolting her to full wakefulness again. “Hoo! That should be fine. Perfectly fine.”

Spike binned the wrapper for his fritter. “Are you sure you’re okay, Twilight? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“I’m sure. I promised.”

The singing contest was in full swing by the time Vinyl and Scootaloo arrived. Vinyl’s head was still pounding, but the wobbling had subsided, at least.

“Am I late?” someone behind her asked. Apparently Rarity’s services were no longer needed for the sewing and sowing biathlon.

Vinyl turned around to face the mare. “Not if you wanna hear me and Scootaloo, no. Twilight and Spike are up next, then it’s us.”

Rarity smiled. “Oh, good. I wonder what they have planned for us.”

Vinyl shook her head vigorously to try and stay awake.

“Are you sure you’re fine, darling?” Rarity asked. “You seem to be a bit out of it.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You cheater!” A call came from behind them.

“I did not cheat; the rules didn’t say anything about what song you’re allowed to sing!” came the reply.

The source of the argument was a foursome of ponies, or rather a pair of duos; two big, two small, two boys, two girls, two pegasi and two Earth ponies. The bickering was between the small ones, and the grownups were more annoyed at their siblings than they were about whatever grave injustice the young ones were debating.

“Oh, for pity’s sake, are you two gonna argue about this all day? Hey, Rarity,” Applejack greeted. “Vinyl.”

“Hey. How’d the singing go? I missed it.” Vinyl yawned.

“It went fine, I reckon. Nothin’ too fancy, just a nice little ditty to forget your sorrows to. Unfortunately, some ponies are gettin’ a mite riled up about the proceedin's.” Applejack cocked her head to the argument unfolding in her wake.

“Tell me about it,” Thunderlane said, rolling his eyes.

Rumble and Apple Bloom went at it, loudly. Rumble’s wings flared up and closed as he argued, Apple Bloom bared her teeth, and both children resorted to vocabulary that would have made Cheerilee proud, what with all the syllables they spent trying to describe the myriad ways in which the other pony was wrong.

Scootaloo had half a mind to get in between the pair, but Vinyl had already extended a hoof to stop her. “Don’t get in the middle of that, kiddo. There’s more going on than you can see.”

“How can you tell?” The girl asked.

“Family business, Scootaloo,” Vinyl replied, a sad tone creeping into her voice. “Family business.”

Rarity squinted when she heard that remark. What an odd thing to say.

The arguing foals fell silent, though, when the referee came up the stage again. “Next contestant: Twilight Sparkle and Spike The Dragon. Up to the podium, please?”

Thunderlane grumbled when he saw Twilight. “Am I the only one seeing this?”

Applejack shook her head. “Nope. Twilight’s been hittin’ the books again, looks like. Face first, too; I think she got a little bit o’ ink on her snout.”

“And nopony is going to say anything?”

“It’s Twilight, Thunderlane,” Rarity said. “She does that sometimes, it’s nothing to worry yourself about. She knows her limits.”

Vinyl didn’t bother trying to focus on that. If Twilight wanted to compete with a handicap, so much the better for Scootaloo’s chances. No, Vinyl was more concerned with another pressing question. “I wonder what she’s going to sing?”

Spike gestured to the record player behind him, and a piano started playing.

The hairs on Vinyl’s neck stood up when she recognised the tune. “Oh, no. That one?”

Spike tapped a foot to the tune, and sang the first few lines.

“You cast your shadow on the wall
Do you feel tired?~“

Twilight smiled and closed her eyes as she joined in.

“Another tome
Another day~”

“The coffee pot is all but drained
Can you see in
No light?~”

They both seemed to synchronise their breaths for the refrain. They hit the exact moment the percussion beats and electronic tunes started.

“Where are you now?
Where are you now?
Where are you now?
Is it just too dark to see?
Where are you now?
In this ancient library?~”

Silence, and anticipation. The crowd was hushed.

“Where are you now?
My blanket
I cannot see
I cannot see
Where are you now?
It’s all a dream
Half-sleeping I can’t make out two from three
I'm fading
I'm fading
So lost, I’m fading
I’m fading
So lost, I’m fading~”

Twilight’s eyes fluttered, but another electric jolt stopped her from nodding off. No one was the wiser, except for Thunderlane, who noticed her shiver. Still, she sang with perfect clarity and sense of rhythm.

“These dimming sparkles never show what I’m feeling
I’m letting go, I rest my head.
The pages calling out to me. I’m falling, I dread~”

Spike slid over to get close to her.

“Where are you now?
Where are you now~?”

Twilight nudged him playfully.

“Under the dim and dying lights
My body’s set on fire
Where are you now?
Where are you now~?”

Another heavy silence from them as the music picked up to hit its crescendo, and they both started bobbing their heads to the tune.

“Where are you now?
My blanket
I cannot see
I cannot see
Where are you now?
It’s all a dream.
When slumber calls and catches up to me.
I’m fading
I’m fading
So lost, I’m fading
I'm fading
So lost, I'm fading~”

The piano came back to full circle, wrapping the song up with the same calm melody it had started with.

The crowd went wild.

“Wow,” Vinyl said. “That was… surprisingly touching.”

Scootaloo shivered. “Yeah. Spike’s not a bad singer.”

“What do you expect?” Thunderlane said. “He’s a dragon, after all: if it’s not magical fire-breath, then it’s pure stamina. Not that hard to assume he’s got trained lungs.”

Vinyl squinted at the stallion. “Something wrong, Thunderlane?”

“Not with me, no. But Twilight’s still looking a bit rough. You really don’t think anything’s wrong?”

Vinyl nodded and yawned. “It’s a Canterlot unicorn thing, Thunder. Lots of late nights, lots of studying. I’m sure the high-flyers in Cloudsdale get that all the time.”

“Oh, I’m not from Cloudsdale, so I wouldn’t know, but… if you say so, I guess. Good luck, by the way.”

“Yeah, good luck, Scootaloo,” Rumble added. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Scootaloo suppressed a groan. Now not only was she singing in front of a crowd, but she was singing in front of the only boy she might have possibly, maybe, potentially considered asking for help in flying. If she looked bad in front of Rumble, that’d make things really awkward, but only because of the difference in skill. She absolutely did not dread talking to him because he and his brother had a reputation and she really wanted to spend some time with Rumble alone. This much, she knew for absolute certain, and no amount of prodding would convince her otherwise. At least Apple Bloom wasn’t around to do any of that annoying prodding. Applejack had disappeared, too, probably during the song.

She banished that thought from her mind. Her target was Rainbow Dash. Winning here would mean Rainbow Dash had to pay attention to her, notice her, maybe adopt her as a big sister.

It would all come down to this.

“Ready, Scoot?” Vinyl asked.

“I hope so.”

“Best hoof forward, kiddo. We’ve got this.”

“Twilight, are you sure you’re okay?” Thunderlane asked.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I -BBZT!- be?”

Thunderlane took a moment, but decided not to bring up the electric shock again, as Twilight was obviously aware of how that looked. “Your face is looking a little, umm, sunken. And that song you sang just now, it sounded like you really meant it.”

Twilight smiled. “It’s a very personal song, very moving. Nothing to be concerned about.”

“If you say so.”

“Vinyl and Scootaloo next, huh?” Spike said.

“Yup.”

“That’s not going to end well,” Thunderlane said. “Scootaloo’s got a terrible habit of shouting her lyrics.”

The music started with an electric wub-like sound that intensified into a loud thrum. The hairs on Twilight’s neck rose up when she recognised the tune. “Oh… that no-good...”

“What? What is it?”

“Canterlot trick, Spike, again. Don’t you recognise that tune?”

Spike kicked the air when the electric guitar riff gave it away. “Oh, that song. Of course she’s gonna do that.”

“Which one is this?” Rumble asked.

“The song is titled ‘The Desperate Raid on the Hen House.’ But most ponies only know it by the refrain.” Twilight grimaced in anticipation.

Both Vinyl and Scootaloo were bobbing their heads and shaking their tails in true performer fashion until Vinyl did an air guitar swish with a hoof. She nodded to her niece, and Scootaloo let rip.

“I! Don’t even know your name
this place just looks the same
the way it did befooore~”

Vinyl winced at the belting Scootaloo could produce, which she’d figured out a while ago was probably genetic: Scootaloo had the strong lungs pegasi needed for flight along with the vocal chords that allowed her unicorn ancestors to shout spells at each other all day. It made matching her volume a difficult, though not impossible, task. There was nothing Vinyl could do but join in on the shouting.

“Okay! You think you’ve got a sturdy base
But the guards you’ve got are out of place
And opened your back dooohoohoohoor!”

They only had a split second to catch their breath, but they did it in perfect synch. That would be the deciding factor for the judges. Scootaloo nailed the timing.

“Fox on the Run
they scream and everybody comes a-runnin’
Take your hens and hide yourself away~”

Scootaloo took care of the most intense part of the refrain, of course, shouting “Foxy on the ruhuuuhun!”

“Fuh-foxy Fox on the Run
So hide away!”

Vinyl did the second verse, the one that, according to the story behind the song, would be sung by the guard dog, or guard rooster, or guard pig, depending on which version it was. In modern times, ponies didn’t care much about tradition, as long as their chickens were safe.

“You! You think you can waltz in here
But the last time I still nicked your ear
You won’t take any more~”

Scootaloo snickered, as she always did when this part came around. Vinyl nearly panicked, but no matter, the girl didn’t miss a single beat.

“I! Don’t even know your name
But you won’t end my reign
I’ve heard this all before~”

The tricky part was over. All they had to do now was coast it out and they were clear.

“Fox on the Run
they scream and everybody comes a-runnin’
Take your hens and hide yourself away
Foxy on the ruhuuuhun!
Fuh-foxy Fox on the Run
So hide away!~”

Vinyl Scratch was out of breath after that. The crowd applauded them, the judges nodded in appreciation.

Roping contest done, singing contest done. Pounding headache coming along now. Those were the worst events down. Everything else, she could handle, take a quick nap in between, and then the race at the end would be hers. Sure, Thunderlane and Applejack might beat her by a small margin, but their siblings stood no chance against Scootaloo, least of all when they were busy arguing with each other.

And in a paired race, it’s the slowest pony who determines victory. That day with Rainbow Dash was in the bag.

Scootaloo’s gonna be so happy...

“Looks like the score’s evened out a bit,” Spike said as Scootaloo came down from the stage. “Even if you can’t sing.”

“Spike, please, don’t start a petty rivalry over this. We still have plenty of events to do,” Twilight said, before shivering as another jolt of electricity went through her to keep the sleep at bay.

“Yeah, I think I’m out of tricks for now,” Vinyl joked. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d only planned for the first two contests and the very last one, as those were the only ones Scootaloo had bothered to mention. Still, they had a comfortable enough lead, Vinyl could relax now. She just needed to steal some minutes of sleep and let her stomach rest. As long as nothing upset her stomach, she’d be in the clear.

Then the judges made the call for the next round. “Okay, five minutes ‘till the pie-eating contest!”

“Uh oh.”

Author's Note

Okay, got the chance to do a quick edit and re-read of the chapter. It should be fine now.

Remarks: a 'run' is what you call a place to keep chickens in, the area besides the coop (the box they sleep in). So 'Fox on the Run' can mean both a fox running from the authorities and a fox on the premises of a chicken owner. In pony land, the song is about the two. And it is based on 'Fox on the Run' by Sweet, which you'll probably know as the soundtrack of some movie or other.

'Library's Fading Light' is based on 'Faded' by Alan Walker, the vocal version. In case you're not aware, the actual lyrics go 'Where are you now - Atlantis Under the Sea.' In this pony version, it would be about the late nights unicorn kids suffer through when they get obsessed with a tome, the 'body set on fire' line referring to muscle cramps from sitting still so long, as well as the classic mana burn notion of magic overuse.

Hey, finding good songs to sing to in the first place was hard enough, never mind making it actually work. Here's hoping the lyrics are different enough to dodge a warning, eheh.

Oh, and the hungover unicorn is going to be doing a pie-eating contest next. I see no problems here at all, do you?

The Drama Dams Burst

Vinyl’s stomach churned in a preliminary protest at the sight of the cherry pies. Not that she didn’t like cherry pie, she was just not looking forward to the effects of tossing that mass of fruit and dough on top of the already unholy mix of partially digested hors d’oeuvres, champagne, cocktails, and peanut butter.

“Alright, contestants: the object is to eat as many pies as possible within the time limit,” the referee called out. “Any regurgitation during the proceedings will result in immediate disqualification. Is that clear?”

Vinyl patted her belly and concentrated, her Canterlot reflexes kicking in again. She’d only get disqualified if she threw up during the eating. If she did it afterwards, she’d be fine. Perfect plan.

“Completely clear,” Scootaloo said to the judge, giving a curt salute. “We’ve got this, right, Aunt Vinyl?”

Vinyl suppressed a whimper. “Right. We’ve got this. Piece of cake.”

Lots of pieces of cake, in fact. Vinyl was out of her element for the eating contest. She didn’t know the tricks for this, no way to get the edge she needed. Still: Canterlot unicorn, high pedigree, Canterlot unicorn, high pedigree. As long as she could repeat those four words in her mind, she could keep going.

“Go!”

There are times in life when the individual feels their consciousness become part of something greater; when a whole group has the exact same thought at the same time. An enemy unites a village, a band of heroes emerges to fight together without any former connection between them, a group of researchers simultaneously hit the same epiphany that has eluded their predecessors for centuries. It was a rare experience, oft described in epic poems but elusive to replicate in reality. Such an experience fell over the crowds at Sweet Apple Acres, though for decidedly less epic reasons than usual.

The thought that went through the crowd, all at once, was this:

You know, now that they’re both stuffing their snouts into pie in exactly the same way at exactly the same rhythm, you can really see the family resemblance between Scootaloo and Vinyl.

Vinyl nommed and glumped and gulped all she could before moving on to the next plate, Scootaloo lagging not too far behind. Time lost its meaning as she focused all her energy, all her attention on the task at hoof. Her stomach filled, almost to bursting. She could scarcely remember how many pies she’d gone through.

“And stop!”

After an eternity, Vinyl and Scootaloo both sat up straight, again in perfect synch. Vinyl gagged, but her lips remained sealed, and her belly wasn’t too swollen, at least. Neither was Scootaloo’s. Good, that meant they wouldn’t risk being too drowsy for the next events. And judging from the amount of empty plates on their table, they had a pretty good score. All the other contestants only had a small pile compared to theirs. The only ones who came close were Thunderlane and Applejack’s table, from the looks of it, but they’d need an exact count to be sure.

Twilight and Spike were at the bottom of the ranking, though, judging from the plate count. There were only five empty plates on Twilight’s table. Easy pickings, Vinyl thought. Clearly Twilight didn’t have the fortitude to gorge herself after a late night, not like Vinyl did.

Then Spike let out a long burp, during which twenty more plates came flying out of his mouth.

Vinyl winced. “Right. Dragon. Shoulda seen that coming.”

“How is that fair?” Scootaloo asked.

“We’ve got other ways to beat him, kiddo. Don’t worry.”

“But he-”

“Let it go, Scootaloo, there’s no point in arguing.”

“But Aunt Vinyl-”

“I said stop," Vinyl hissed under her breath. “Give it a rest, Scootaloo. You know better than to be a sore loser.”

Spike got the ribbon. Vinyl gagged, but she held it in, still. The Apples were hosting some card game contests today, too, and they needed the space for the next few events, so Vinyl had some time to rest up now. Granted, so did Twilight, but that wouldn’t be an issue, as Vinyl hadn’t been wearing herself out with electric shocks.

As stuffed as she was, she could hold her food down.

“Okay, everypony!” One of the referees called out. “While the contestants of the card games are wrapping up and we’re setting up the next couple of events, who wants to see an air show?”

Rainbow Dash needed no further cue and immediately went to work, soaring close enough to the herd of ponies to mess up some manes.

Then she ducked, weaved and twirled through the clouds, doing a routine that was surely worthy of a Wonderbolt. Everyone was impressed. Scootaloo was awed.

Vinyl was queasy. The motions drew her eyes, and her stomach had apparently taken the opportunity to study bodily law, elect an official, set up a formal petition that the rest of her body couldn’t ignore, and finally gotten permission from her brain to throw up. She had to make her escape.

“Be right back, Scoots.”

She ran off.

Vinyl let it all out in one of the bins that had, thankfully, been placed within reach but behind a conveniently placed barn for just such an occasion. Though dizzy, she felt a lot better once her stomach had cleared. Now all she needed was something to get the aftertaste out of her mouth, and she was good to go.

“Feel better?”

Vinyl’s ears flicked back, then the rest of her turned to confront the source of the voice which, she was thankful to realise, was not a hallucination due to lack of sleep. Rarity had followed her. “Yeah, thanks. Guess I didn’t know what I was getting into today.”

The look on Rarity’s face said it all. Concern, mixed with a healthy dose of judgement. Though not Canterlot-born, Rarity had the look down pat. “Mhmm. Are you feeling quite alright, darling?”

Vinyl wiped her mouth and nodded. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Right at that moment, Rainbow Dash let out a thunderclap from a cloud to mark some sort of climax in her performance.

Rarity looked back, but merely rolled her eyes at the trick. “Well, you were wobbly this morning, and I seem to recall you having a concert in Canterlot recently. Wasn’t that yesterday?”

Vinyl shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Do you mind?” Rarity reached for Vinyl’s glasses.

Vinyl tensed, but she didn’t move. Rarity was going to get a look, either way. Vinyl hadn’t looked at herself in a mirror since this morning, but judging from Rarity’s flinch, not much had changed regarding the bags in the DJ’s eyes and the red bleariness.

“Oh, darling,” Rarity said with a barely suppressed gasp. “What are you doing to yourself?”

“I’m not dying, Rarity.” Vinyl snatched the glasses back and put them on. “I’m just doing a contest with my niece. Is that allowed?”

“Certainly. But don’t you think you should take it easy?”

“I can’t,” Vinyl replied. “Scootaloo wants to win. I made a promise.”

“But you’re going to hurt yourself,” Rarity said. “I don’t think Scootaloo would want that.”

“It’s complicated.”

Rarity sat down. Somehow she managed to make even that look dramatic. “Then uncomplicate it for me, darling, because I have half a mind to get Nurse Redheart over here to disqualify you this instant.”

Vinyl gritted her teeth. “It’s none of your business, Rarity. No offence.”

“None taken.” Rarity thought for a second, then smiled in that all too familiar conniving Canterlot unicorn way. The acquired version of it was as unnerving as the genetic one. “But it is my business to some extent, actually. My little sister spends a lot of time with your niece, if you’ll recall. If there are any, shall we say, less appropriate behaviours or lessons being taught to the girl, I wouldn’t want Sweetie Belle to catch any of that. Of course, I don’t think you are uncouth in any way, but better safe than sorry, you understand.”

“Fine,” Vinyl said with a heavy sigh. “I don’t want Scootaloo to think no one cares about her, okay? I don’t want to let her down. And I don’t want to let her mom down, either. Our family is… different.”

Back at the contest stage, they heard the swoops of Rainbow’s performance, followed by the woops of the crowd.

“Ah. You’re worried you’re not living up to your family’s standards.”

Vinyl chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, I don’t need to worry about that; I know I’m not up to their standards.”

Unicorn drama? Now Rarity was sailing in familiar waters. “But you’re a famous musician. You just got back from an international concert.”

“No, I’m not a musician; I am a DJ. A DJ is to a musician what a waiter is to a chef. But yeah, I am famous, and I do big concerts sometimes.” Vinyl snorted. “And meanwhile, my father is casting protection spells that’ll preserve Canterlot’s treasures and its defenses, and my sister is on another one of her business trips hurricane-proofing houses in… I think it was elk country this month, but it might be reindeer season by now. Anyway, while she’s doing that, her husband is on deployment from Cloudsdale, preventing hurricanes from happening in the first place. Twiddling with buttons to make noise come out doesn’t seem quite so glamorous compared to that, does it? And don’t try to tell me you’re in the same boat, Miss Element of Generosity, you know there’s a big difference between being artsy and being important.”

Rarity fell silent. “Right. I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t mean to pry.”

Vinyl shook her head and rubbed behind the ears to try and numb the throbbing sensation that just had to pop up right then and there. “Don’t be. I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep.”

“I gathered as much, darling.” Rarity patted her on the back. “No need to apologise. We are colleagues, after all. Friends, one might even say, if you weren’t so mysterious about your affairs.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“If you’re having trouble with anything, you do know you can come by and talk, right? I mean, we’ve worked together often enough, I have Sweetie Belle to worry about, you have your Scootaloo...”

“Yeah… my Scootaloo. Funny you should mention that.” The DJ chuckled. “It’s my fault, you know. The only reason Scootaloo is even with me is because Octavia is around. If you really want the whole truth, it’s that I’m… I’m the black sheep in my family. Kind of weird, too, ‘coz I’m the only one who was born snow white.”

This did not compute. “So… you want Scootaloo to have the prize, because you feel you must get it for her? Because you think you’re somehow incompetent otherwise?”

Vinyl nodded. “Something like that, yeah. That’s about right.”

“But the prize is a day with Rainbow Dash,” Rarity argued.

Right on cue, the crowd roared again. Rainbow Dash was in good form today, apparently.

“I know. Scootaloo’s got her heart set on it.”

Rarity bit her lip, carefully weighing her words. “But you realise Scootaloo thinks of Rainbow Dash as a prospective sister figure, yes? She idolises Rainbow. One day isn’t going to be enough.”

“No, but it’s a start.”

Now Rarity was getting into ‘shocked’ territory. This was always a risk, as it tended to drive up her spa bills. “And you don’t care that she’d rather be with Rainbow Dash, with a stranger, than with, oh, I don’t know, you?”

Silence fell.

“It’s for the best,” Vinyl said, eventually. “She’d be better off with Rainbow looking out for her.”

“Oh, darling, now you’re just being silly. This is family you are talking about. You mustn’t rule yourself out like that. No one thinks any less of you because of your profession. If anything, you have more admirers than Rainbow Dash does.”

Vinyl shook her head. “How would you know? You don’t know who my sister is. You don’t even know her name and I’m definitely not tossin’ it around in this town. So, sorry to say it, Rarity, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fair enough, but-”

“But nothing,” Vinyl snapped. “Are you really gonna tell me it's not a big deal? Really? Do you have any idea what it’s like to have a big sister who is everything you ought to be, while you are nothing like her and everyone, everyone, expects you to be her? Do you know what it’s like to move to a whole new town just so you’d get one chance to be treated as your own pony, only to have your big sister’s accomplishments thrown in your face every single time you so much as breathe a word about what you’re doing with your life?”

Rarity gulped. “No, admittedly, that I do not. But, in my defense, I do have some idea of what it is like to be the elder sister in that situation. And while I can’t speak for your sister, I know I would never forgive myself if I let Sweetie Belle do what you are doing out of some completely misguided inferiority complex.”

Vinyl shook her head. “You don’t understand. My sister, she...”

“She does more important work than you do? Well then, why isn’t she taking care of her own daughter? Why, Scootaloo is only a child and-” Rarity stopped herself. “Actually, now that you mention it. How much older was your sister, you say?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’d say that it does. You said so yourself: your family is important. But you are a unicorn, and if I recall correctly, so are the rest of your family, with the exception of Scootaloo’s mother and, of course, Scootaloo. Plus, you don’t mind Scootaloo being with Rainbow Dash, a fellow pegasus, even with Rainbow Dash being… well, Rainbow Dash. You wish it was the other way around, don’t you? That your sister was a unicorn and you a pegasus?”

Vinyl shrugged. “Would have prevented a lot of problems. Not just for us, for Scootaloo, too. If I’d been born the pegasus of the family… if Scootaloo had been born a unicorn, she wouldn’t be having these issues, either.”

“Issues being the wing problem and the shedding.”

Vinyl nodded. “Yeah. Scootaloo’s not like her mom, or her grandpa. She’s more like me, and even then, she’s pretty far off. I never got into athletics like she does. No one in our family is like her. She acts tough, but sometimes she slips, you know? Like it’s starting to dawn on her something is wrong but she can’t tell what. That’s why I want her to get some time with Rainbow Dash, it doesn’t have to be much. If I can show her there are pegasus ponies like her, who like the same things she does, who have the same problems she does, then she won’t have to feel bad. I can’t cut it, and neither can Octavia. Scootaloo needs somepony to talk to about flying, about what the Wonderbolts do, about… about everything. A pegasus pony is not an Earth pony with wings; there’s more to it. And right now, with everything that’s going on, Rainbow Dash is the best pony to ask. Even if Rainbow is a stranger, it’s better than nothing.”

“You could just ask her, then, you know,” Rarity offered. “There’s no need for all of this theatrics.”

“Wouldn’t help. Not for Scootaloo, at least. Wouldn’t help for me, either. If I ask Rainbow Dash to do it, it’d be like taking Scoots to a doctor, to a therapist. It’d be like admitting there’s something wrong with her. I’m not putting her through that again if I can help it. Whatever it is she wants from Rainbow Dash, she wants to earn it. So that is what I am doing today. I am giving her a chance to compete, to show her stuff, to win. And nothing is going to stop me, not even my own dumb mistakes in planning this whole shebang.”

Rarity nodded in defeat. “I understand that’s quite an undertaking you’re on and you feel it’s right-”

“Good. So we understand each other.”

“But Vinyl-”

“Look, Rarity, if you want me to spell it out, fine: my sister had Scootaloo when she was my age, okay? I’m not even seeing any stallions right now, that’s not gonna change anytime soon, and that’s not something my bigshot fancy bloodline family is all too happy about. This is all I’m good for, this is what I’m doing.”

“D’oh, you Canterlot unicorns and your blasted self-deprecation, honestly. A good suitor is hard to find, you mustn’t think less of yourself if you take longer to find one than your sister. In fact, I happen to know quite a few stallions who would love to meet you. Just say the word and you’ll be on the dating circuit in no time.”

Vinyl chuckled. “Thanks for the sentiment, but I don’t think you get what I’m saying. Read my lips: I... am not… mom material. I know that, my family knows that, everypony knows that. My sister’s the one with a kid, she’s the one upholding the family name, and nothing I do is ever gonna change that. The unicorn sister is not gonna be the one to keep up our bloodline. I’m not gonna be a mom.” She caught her breath. “But I can be a good aunt. It’s not much, but it’s what I can do. So I’m gonna be a good aunt to my little niece. I’m gonna make sure she’s happy, that she has ponies she can talk to and rely on, who don’t make a big deal about how she lives her life or tell her she was born wrong. I’m gonna make sure that when she’s old enough to have to worry, she knows that there are ponies outside of our family.” She barely suppressed a hiss. “Waaay outside of our noble and high pedigree family.”

Rarity finally realised what Vinyl was saying.

“Good ponies, friendly ponies,” Vinyl continued. “Who are at least as good for her to be around, and probably better. And if that means dealing with Scootaloo idolising Rainbow Dash and ignoring me, I’ll take it. Now, are you going to stop me?”

“I should like to. But I do not take you for a fool, Vinyl Scratch. You’re a sensible mare, so I trust you know your limits.”

“Thank you.”

Even after clearing her stomach out of both ends following a trip to the bins and bathroom, Vinyl felt faint, probably the lack of sleep catching up to her. Once Big Mac and Granny Smith had rounded up all the ponies who’d overeaten on cherry pies – because no one in the Apple family was dumb enough to have ponies puke after eating apple pies – the events went on.

Vinyl didn’t have the mental acuity to keep track of her scores, and Scootaloo’s growing grudge against Spike didn’t help matters at all. The mare’s eyesight was starting to go after a while, lids twitching and refusing to stay up. She bit through it.

The rope skipping competition, they won with ease, as Twilight’s momentarily lapses post-zapping caused her to miss her timing. Besides that, Spike was a clumsy jumper, while Scootaloo practically lived a few inches off the ground. She reveled in her victory, glaring at Spike as he fumed.

The librarian and her dragon got their revenge, though, in that ancient gauntlet of the mind: the spelling bee. Vinyl had no trouble keeping up with Twilight, but Spike was a well-read dragon and left his opposition in the dust. In the end, Spike managed to spell ‘draconequus’ correctly, Scootaloo could not. In all fairness, Vinyl Scratch wasn’t sure if she’d have gotten that one right herself, as the word kind of sounded made up anyway. Spike blew a raspberry at Scootaloo when he thought Vinyl wasn’t looking. Vinyl had been looking, but she was more concerned at Scootaloo’s returning of the gesture.

The sack race didn’t go so well for them, either, but then most ponies were pretty terrible at that event, what with their quadrupedal tendencies and maladapted hooves. Twilight didn’t get any advantage there from Spike, unless one counted the constant poking and prodding from his backscales as a blessing.

Vinyl’s head swam once that race was done. She saw the other contestants, but the creeping blackness in her vision kept her from seeing whether they arrived before or after her. All she did see was Scootaloo prancing in front of Spike, head held high like a proud peacock. Or rather, a proud Canterlot unicorn.

No matter. She still had the lead from the earlier events, they still had a decent score, even if the difference was dwindling.

“Spike’s still gaining on us,” Scootaloo said once they had some more downtime. “We can’t let him win, Aunt Vinyl.”

As much as she wanted to agree, Vinyl shook her head. “Okay, go talk to him.”

“What?”

“Go to Spike, ask to talk in private, and settle this with him. Now.”

Scootaloo was taken aback by the sudden shift in tone from her aunt. “But-”

The girl’s voice grated on Vinyl’s ears. Everything in the mare’s body felt weak, like she was about to faint. Vinyl needed to rest, get some sugar back. Had she even had lunch yet? Was lunch passed already? She needed to recover. She was pushing herself to her limit.

And Scootaloo could not, under any circumstances, be allowed to see her aunt in that bad a state.

“No buts, kiddo. I’ve seen you two blowing raspberries at each other, glaring like you’re sworn enemies, smirking whenever the other one makes a mistake. This isn’t like you, either of you. I haven’t got a say about Spike, but you’ve been gunning for him since we got here, and he’s been getting under your skin, and I’m not having it.”

“But I thought you wanted us to win,” the filly whined.

Vinyl sat up and growled under her breath. “I do, Scootaloo, I do. But you are getting carried away, and you need to talk to that boy before either one of you does something or says something they’ll regret. I thought he was your friend?”

“He is. Kinda.” Scootaloo shrugged.

“Then you shouldn’t put a ‘kinda friendship’ at risk over a competition. You are not that kind of pony and you are not turning into that kind of pony if I have anything to say about it. When you get old enough to compete, you’re going to have plenty of ponies who are your friends and who are still trying to beat you. If you keep going like this, it's gonna become a bad habit that you can't shake, and you’re going to regret it. So I am telling you right now: go to Spike, ask to talk it out, act like a good sport. If he wants to act like a jerk, fine, but you don’t get to. You settle this, like a good, civil little pony, before it gets out of control. If you need me, I’ll be taking a nap near the cider stand. Okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Sullenly, Scootaloo trotted off.

Vinyl dragged herself to a nearby tree and lay her head down on the grass. She was close enough to the main barn to be able to hear when the obstacle course was ready, she had some time, all she needed was a quick nap. She dozed off without a second thought.

Right at that moment, a certain blue pegasus mare came walking by. One with a rainbow mane and tail, to be exact. “Oh, hey, Vinyl, right? I’ve been thinking, about Scootaloo. Is she your sister or your niece or whatever? Because I’ve seen her around and she kind of hosted my fan club. I mean, every kid would want to be in my fan club, obviously, but-”

A snore interrupted her. And Rainbow Dash was nothing if not respectful for the ancient rules of pony naps.

"Oh. You’re asleep. Good idea. Forget I said anything, it’s probably no big deal.”

Thunderlane found Twilight alone, near an apple fritter stand. “Twilight? Mind if I ask you something?”

Twilight gulped down the last bite of her snack. “Sure. Where’s Rumble?”

He flicked his wings behind him. “Apple Bloom’s been getting a little antsy with him, so I figured I’d let them talk it out.”

“Alone?” She chuckled. “You put a lot of faith in your brother, then.”

“Well, that and… Rumble’s not the sort of boy you want to let things escalate with. He can do some pretty crazy stuff when he puts his mind to it. It’s best to nip it in the bud when ponies get upset with him, that’s what I’ve noticed.” Thunderlane sat down. “Where’s Spike?”

“He said he needed to take care of something. I think he’s off doing the same thing your brother is doing, actually, only with Scootaloo.”

“Good. While they’re both gone and the final event is getting set up, umm, mind explaining to me why you’re pushing yourself like this?”

“I am not pushing myself,” Twilight argued. “I’m fine.”

“Uhuh. You’re so fine you need a spell to shock you every time you fall asleep on your hooves.”

Right on cue, the spell zapped her. “Yow! Okay, point taken. It’s only a little spell to stay awake, it’s nothing serious.”

“You look terrible, Twilight. You should sleep.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. If I go to sleep now, I’m not waking up for at least two hours, and I’ll miss the final event. Even if I don’t miss it, I’ll be too drowsy to win. I can’t take that chance.”

“Why? Why go through all that trouble? I heard Spike tell you it’s okay.”

“But it’s not, Thunderlane. Not by a long shot. Spike… Spike’s had it pretty rough, and I promised I’d take him.”

Thunderlane rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, I get that, but why would he even want to do the Sisterhooves in the first place? He can hang out with Rainbow Dash whenever he wants, can’t he?”

“What does it matter to you?”

The stallion prodded his chest, a proud smile on his face. “I’m a future Wonderbolt, in case you didn’t know. I’m on the same track Rainbow Dash is. And Wonderbolts don’t let their fellow ponies hurt themselves.”

“I suppose that’s a fair point.” Twilight rubbed her temples. “You’d have to ask Spike about his reasons. I could guess, but even I don’t know everything that goes on in that little scaly head of his. What I do know is that he deserves to have a good time, especially after everything that’s happened.”

“Look, if this is about the whole greed and growth thing-”

“No, no, it’s not. You don’t...”

“I don’t… what?”

“It’s personal.”

“Okay. And I’m not personal enough, you mean?”

“You wouldn’t unders-” She looked at him, with his eyebrow quirked, and realised how silly that sentence was about to be, so she aborted that plan swiftly. “Okay, maybe you would, of all ponies.”

“Thanks. I think. What is it I’d understand?”

Twilight wiped her eyes. “Do Wonderbolts have any confidentiality clause?”

“No. But if you want me to keep a secret, you can just ask.”

Twilight nodded and sighed. “Okay. Bear with me here, because I’ve thought about it a lot.”

"Right, thinking out loud, then.”

She gestured with her hooves, more to keep her own attention focused on the topic at hoof than anything else. “Everyone said Spike grows because of his greed, and everyone believed it. Everyone still believes it, just like that. Except I know for a fact that’s not true, because he’s had nice things before and he didn’t get that big because of it. He had way more things back in Canterlot, if anything, he would have grown there. But he didn’t. Then his birthday happened, I didn’t know what to do, and then all of a sudden, nopony did. Spike’s been with me for years, for most of my life and, well, all of his, and after all that, I finally learn he doesn’t really have anyone.”

“He’s got you. He’s got your friends.”

She stared at the grass, pensive. “I had to take him to a vet, Thunderlane. A vet. Think about that. I had to go ask Zecora what she knew, and… frankly, I’m not sure if I want him to be around her after that. She basically said to his face, to my face, that my number one assistant, my friend, the little dragon I hatched, was born evil. That’s still what everyone assumes about him, everyone believes that. Yet he stopped himself. Just him, nopony else did that, and no one can explain to me why or how. I can’t trust anyone when it comes to taking care of him.”

“Okay, I guess that’s one thing. Have you found out anything since?”

“Sure. I know how to contain him now, I know how to keep him calm, and...” She chuckled. “I even know where I can get some answers, if you can believe it.”

“Problem solved, then, right?”

“I wish. We crossed that bridge already. And when we did, we had to burn it. Like I said, Spike’s had it rough.” She wiped away a tear. “There’s a lot of things ponies in Ponyville don’t know about, things I don’t want them to know about. Too much to say here and now.”

“That’s still no reason to hurt yourself like this.”

“Not on its own, maybe. But all of it combined? It’s reason enough. Look, the bottom line is: I’ve failed him too many times already. I don’t know why he wants to be here, but I know why I do. I don’t want him to think my word is meaningless.”

Thunderlane’s ears twitched. “Your word meaning… you’ve already broken a promise to him. What, like recently? That’s what this is all about?”

“Something like that.”

The showdown was next to a shed, one with the door opened, presumably one of the Apples had needed to get some equipment there and forgot to close up. With a pile of haybales to her left, Scootaloo stood face to face with her rival.

“Spike,” she half-growled.

“Scootaloo,” the dragon hissed back.

The filly opened her mouth to say something.

“You’re nothin’ but a cheater!”

Spike furrowed his brow, and likewise opened his mouth to say something.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I wasn’t cheating!”

It was then that the two realised they weren’t the only ones with grudges in this competition, and that apparently the shed was a popular discussion forum. Apple Bloom had cornered Rumble, from the sound of it, and was currently in the process of chewing him out.

“Listen, Spike-”

“You can’t use a voice changing potion in a singing contest!”

“It wasn’t a potion; my voice sounds like that all the time!”

Scootaloo grumbled. This arguing was really getting in the way of her own arguing.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Okay, Scootaloo-”

“Ya can’t fool me, Mister! Every colt in class has a deep voice already, you’re just takin’ pills to perform your enhancements!”

“It’s a glandular problem!” Rumble cried back. “It’s not my fault I’m a late bloomer! I don’t like it, either! And it’s not ‘perform enhancements,’ it’s ‘performance enhancers!’"

“Ahah! So you are takin’ illegal pills!” Apple Bloom retorted, proud to find she was the sharpest tool in that particular shed.

Scootaloo let out a primal ‘grah’ that would have made her wizard ancestors proud and marched right past Spike and towards the entrance of the shed.

She did not, however, get a word in.

“Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom asked. “What are you doin’ here? Are you eavesdroppin’? Can’t you see I’m tryin’ to have an honest conversation with this’ere parabolic hyperbuser?”

“I am not abusing anything!” Rumble protested. “And it’s ‘anabolic abuser,’ for pity’s sake, no wonder you lost the spelling bee.”

“See? Another admission, straight outta the horse’s mouth! Why, you should be ashamed of yourself, Rumble.”

Scootaloo thought about trying to interrupt the conversation. This was quite a challenge, as thinking was not her strong suit. It was made all the more challenging, because both Apple Bloom and Rumble had enough volume to make an Archmage have trouble hearing his own thoughts.

Spike grumbled and came up behind the filly. “Are we gonna yell at each other now, too?”

Scootaloo shook her head. “No, Aunt Vinyl was right. Let’s just go someplace quiet.”

Author's Note

This one was hard to do. On one hand, I wanted to give Vinyl a good reason for doing what she does, and go into more depth on the family thing, but on the other hand I didn't want to end up retconning what was established on Scootaloo's family in the first story or make it too depressing. So I tried to do a little middle ground.

What Vinyl is saying is something I've covered before in a more mature-oriented fic, it's subtle but it's there. Younger readers may miss it, but it's there.

Both Thunderlane and Rarity are sort-of friends, sort-of strangers to the ponies they're talking to, in the abstract. But that seemed appropriate, as they both are easy to portray as being noble in that sense, as well as the whole point of the plot being that Scootaloo wants this sort of contact with Rainbow Dash as well.

Rumble and Apple Bloom were kind of an afterthought, at least in this chapter. It was missing something initially. I wanted something comedic to lighten the mood, and provide contrast for Scoots and Spike. I think they fit the bill quite nicely. Not sure if Rumble's voice has dropped in Season 7, but I'll know when I catch up on episodes, which at the time of writing is soon (weeks, not months.)

Edit: so it did. Boy, did it ever. Whose bright idea was it to give that sweet, innocent little colt the voice of Feather 'Bieber' Bangs?

Civility

“Okay, let’s settle this,” Spike said as he found a quiet spot. “What did I do to get your tail in a bunch?”

Scootaloo growled. “You know what you did. You’ve been taunting me all day, trying to make me mess up.”

He chuckled. “So? It’s a competition. Everyone does that.”

“No, not everyone; you never do. I mean, obviously you can be kinda rude, because you’re a boy and all-”

Spike glared, but didn’t interrupt her.

“But you’re never a jerk, not on purpose. So what’s the deal?”

The dragon smirked and folded his arms in front of his chest. “You’re upset that you can’t beat me and Twilight, that’s all. You’re just being a sore loser, which is kinda weird, ‘coz you haven’t lost yet, technically.”

Scootaloo squinted. “What’s going on, Spike, really? You don’t sound like yourself today.”

This got a gulp out of him, though he kept up his ‘tough guy’ act. “Like you’d know. You didn’t even notice your aunt nearly throwing up at the pie eating contest.”

Scootaloo shrugged. “She said she was fine. And she promised she’d take me. She wouldn’t do it if she didn’t think she could. And at least Aunt Vinyl isn’t using a spell to shock her every five seconds.”

“Twilight said she was fine,” Spike argued. “She wouldn’t lie about that. And she wouldn’t push herself too far. I wouldn’t let her. I’ve never let her.”

“Yeah, right, she’s practically passing out already.”

“Oh, and Vinyl Scratch isn’t?” Spike retorted.

“My aunt’s an awesome D.J.; she does this all the time, she’s used to it.”

“And Twilight’s a hero, and an egghead,” Spike retorted. “She does this all the time, too. All-nighters and big stunts.”

“Whaddaya mean, you’re takin’ hormones?” came a cry from the shed.

“I told you, it’s not my fault! It’s a glandular problem!” came the reply. “You want me to sound like a squeaky toy for five more years?!”

Scootaloo sighed, and only now noticed the distance between her and the dragon had shrunk to the point they were practically in each other’s faces. She wasn’t sure if she was the one getting in his face or the other way around, but she knew Aunt Vinyl would call that a bad habit. “We really shouldn’t fight like this,” she said, backing up. “I mean, I’m not that mad at you, I just… I don’t get it.”

“Me neither. Why were you so surprised about me being here in the first place? Can’t I have a little fun?”

“Sure, but... why are you here, then? This isn’t the kind of thing you like.”

The dragon scoffed. “How would you know what I like?”

“Well, for one thing, you’re a boy. And even with Rumble and Thunderlane here, this is mostly a girl thing. Which I kinda figured you hated.”

“Don’t you hate girly stuff, too?”

“Okay, usually, sure, but I am still a girl. It still counts. And don’t change the subject. You know why I’m upset: you can hang out with Rainbow Dash whenever you want; you’re friends with her already. I’m not. She doesn’t even know my name. And I really want her to. I thought you knew that.”

Spike looked away. “Yeah, I do, and I think most ponies in Ponyville know about that. I mean, the fan club was kind of a giveaway. I’m pretty sure Rainbow Dash is the only one who doesn’t know how much you admire her.”

“Thank you,” Scootaloo said with an exasperated groan. “So why are you here? Why would you drag Twilight to this thing?”

Spike bit his lip and scratched his arms. “Promise not to tell anyone?”

Scootaloo hesitated for a second, as she realised this was the first time she’d seen a boy look so vulnerable. A dragon boy, to boot. Spike’s whole demeanour had changed from talking to her, his breath slowing and his shoulders gradually slumping until she now noticed he was having trouble keeping himself straightened up. It was so gradual, it hadn’t registered to her before now. Whatever was weighing on him, it was big. “I promise.”

“Pinkie promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Umm, you remember when I came back from the dragon migration?”

She thought back for a moment and nodded. “Sure. You wanted to know what dragons were like, right? And you got a little phoenix egg, or something? Or was that just gossip around town?”

He winced and shook his head. “No, that was true. I saved it. I saved it from a bunch of other dragons. That’s kind of the point; they were going to smash it. Turns out dragons aren’t that nice.”

Scootaloo considered that thought. While she wasn’t an expert in these matters, at least Spike wasn’t leaving much room to guess. “You mean other dragons are. You’re still nice, right?”

“I had to give him back,” Spike blurted out.

“What?”

“Peewee. The little phoenix I saved.” Spike sighed and idly kicked the ground. “I was the first thing he saw when he came out of the egg. I took care of him for three weeks. I fed him, kept him warm, cleaned up his ashes. And then I had to give him up. So I gave him back to his parents. That’s why.”

Scootaloo’s heart sank. “Oh.”

“That’s why I asked Twilight to do the Sisterhooves with me. That’s why I’m gonna keep doing this kind of stuff. I don’t get to have nice things, not anymore. If I get too much stuff, I turn into a bigger dragon. If I get a pet to take care of, I have to give it back. So I’ll just have to do this kind of thing instead. I’m sorry if I was too rude, Scootaloo. I just thought that’s what you do when you’re rivals with somepony. It’s how they do it in Canterlot.”

As much as she wanted to stay mad at him, that was a pretty good reason to join the contests. And, thinking about it, he wasn’t that far off. Even if Spike was usually more of a knightly kind of guy who wasn’t much of a taunter, the things he’d actually said and done were pretty close to the stuff Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle got away with.

Hay, in retrospect, Diamond Tiara did worse, and she didn’t even have scales or firebreath. At least, none Scootaloo was aware of.

Still, while she understood it, she didn’t agree with it. “Look, Spike, I get that’s a scary thing to think about, but come on, you’re not gonna turn into a huge monster just because you get nice things.”

“You don’t understand, Scootaloo. You weren’t there. The dragons who wanted to smash that egg, the ones that were going to kill Peewee, those were only the size of ponies. Medium-sized.” He looked her right in the eyes then. “That’s how bad medium-sized dragons are. That’s the first thing I’m gonna turn into. If I grow even a little bit, I’ll turn into one of them, and I’ll start smashing eggs. I can’t take that chance.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you do?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “There you go. I can’t have nice things. I’m okay with that. I’ll just have a nice time instead.”

“Okay, that does explain why you wanted to do the Sisterhooves, kind of. And why you want to win.” She mulled it over. “I guess.”

“Exactly. Today’s a nice time. Fun for me, safe for everypony around me. What about you?”

“Who, me?”

“Yeah. I thought you were used to ponies having a little fun with you. Why are you so touchy today?” Spike asked. “Even if it is Rainbow Dash on the line.”

Busted. “Oh, I’m fine, Spike, it’s nothing. I’m not touchy; I’m just, umm, learning about being a good sport and I, err, I forgot for a second. Yeah, that’s it, nothing special.”

Spike stared at her.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m freaking out about not being able to fly, because my doctors sure aren’t. You know, if they say it’s okay, it must be, right? They’re never wrong, after all.” Scootaloo chuckled, and instantly regretted it, because it made it quite obvious her breath was quickening and her nerves were getting strained.

Here, the dragon had to contain a groan of sympathy, having had less than optimal experiences with the Equestrian healthcare system himself. He still wasn’t sure if he was supposed to see a paediatrician, a herpetologist, or a cryptozoologist if he had the sniffles. The local fire brigade was first on his list of ponies to call when he started sneezing, sure, but beyond that he was still in the dark.

Somehow, he’d never thought that maybe ponies would be in the dark like him, too, certainly not a foal like Scootaloo.

“It’s not like everypony in class who could fly is already flying,” she continued. “It’s not like there might be something wrong with me… that I can’t help… and I can’t fix.” She gulped. “It’s not like I’m the black sheep of my family.”

“Why would you be the black sheep of your family? Are they embarrassed about you?”

She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand. My family is all Canterlot ponies.”

Spike cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, Canterlot ponies, right. Then, err, what do you call my family?”

“Okay, maybe you would understand.”

“So, what, you think you’re too much of an embarrassment because your family’s important and you’re not?”

“Something like that. My mom and dad are really important ponies, with really important jobs. More important than me. I want to be like them, but...” She looked up at the clouds then. “I can’t do that on my own. I’ve tried, but I just can’t.”

Spike’s stomach knotted. He knew that kind of talk all too well. It was never a good sign. “Umm, Scootaloo, if you are from a Canterlot family, and I’m guessing it’s mostly unicorns...”

“What?”

“Not that it’s any of my business or anything, but, umm, they don’t… you know...”

“They don’t what?”

Spike would have asked, but the fact that Scootaloo didn’t know what he meant was answer enough. “Never mind. Which family is it? I might know’em, at least the ones still in Canterlot.”

“That’d be Grandpa Zee. Or Zed, Octavia’s kind of nitpicky about that. You’d know him as Zilean Pieces.”

The dragon stared for a moment, before realising what she meant. “The insurance pony?”

“Yup.”

“The only living Archmage who can cast the Time Eater spell? The sixth-level Restoration Mage, the guy who resurrected all the artwork after that fire in the Canterlot Arts Cathedral eight years ago?”

“That’s him.”

He sat back to let that sink in. “Wow. Talk about big horseshoes to fill. And you don’t even have a horn.”

“Tell me about it. But my parents don’t, either. And they do stuff that’s just as important.”

“Uhuh. But what about you?”

“I can’t, because I can’t fly,” she argued. “Obviously.”

“I don’t mean that; I mean what do you want to do? You don’t seem like an insurance pony to me. If anything, you’re the kinda pony that keeps them in business. No offense.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I want my family to be proud of me. And I really want to fly. So I guess I wanna fly really well to make them proud. Two birds, one stone, makes sense to me.”

“Wonderbolts, huh?”

“Maybe. They do rescue flying sometimes, that counts, doesn’t it?”

“I guess. So you really just want the day with Rainbow Dash to learn how to fly? You can ask for a flight instructor, you know, if it means that much to you. They’re not future Wonderbolts, but you can probably get a Wonderbolts instructor pretty easily if you know who to ask. I’m pretty sure I could get you one, all you have to do is ask.”

“I know,” she whined. “But what if I try to get lessons, and they tell me my wings are still too small?”

“Umm, are they? They’re the same size as Rumble’s. And that’s... Rumble.”

“They’re too small now. And I can’t wait for them to grow.”

Normally, Spike would have pressed the issue. Clearly this was some classic late-bloomer worries; Spike had seen the same thing in plenty of Twilight’s peers, all across the age range, too. He had heard Scootaloo mention doctors quite clearly, so she already had someone telling her she wasn’t crippled for life… yet.

Obviously Scootaloo was hoping Rainbow Dash could make that doubt go away and somehow magic up some flight abilities for the girl. Either that, or Scootaloo had delusions about Rainbow Dash becoming her sister, as if she didn’t have enough of a family in her parents and her aunt, not to mention her friends, or their families, even if the Canterlot side of things was absent, as Canterlot families sometimes were.

He could have called her out on it. He wanted to call her out on it. If it had been any other pony, he would have. But this was Scootaloo, and while he didn’t know her all that well, one thing he did know: this was not a girl he wanted to push. Scootaloo was a tough child, much like Spike was. He could stand letting his armour down for a moment, she clearly could not.

Twilight never gave him a hard time when his soft side came up, he didn’t have that much of a problem with it now. Perhaps Scootaloo’s family had other ideas. Or perhaps it was a pegasus thing, as all pegasi, without exception, were crazy in one way or another, and nothing Spike had observed had convinced him otherwise.

I wonder how Rainbow Dash deals with that. She can’t be tough all the time, either, can she?

That thought only further illustrated why Scootaloo might want to hang out with Rainbow Dash, or get sister-dopted, whatever it was Scootaloo was aiming for. Either way, his dragon code had a clear line on how to proceed. “Careful you don’t get anything in your eyes. It’s pollen season.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” She wiped her eyes to get rid of some wetness, entirely due to pollen. Equestrian vegetation had a nasty habit of singling out the tough ponies like that.

Spike thought it over for a moment. “If it makes you feel any better: at least you have wings. I don’t know if I’m supposed to grow any, or if I’m just a dragon with no wings. I don’t even know if dragons without wings are supposed to exist.”

“You feeling worse than me doesn’t make me feel better, Spike. I’m not a monster.”

“Good. You feeling worse wouldn’t make me feel better, either.” He let out a curt snort, careful to hold his flame in. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna go easy on you.”

“What?”

His tone hardened, as much as it could with that childish voice of his. “You heard me. If you mess up, I’m gonna enjoy beating you, and that’s a promise.”

“Even after all that? Even when you know how much I want to win?”

The dragon made a point to rub his chin in a thoughtful manner, like he’d seen Twilight do when she was dressing up as Star Swirl the Bearded. “Well, for starters: you said your family is from Canterlot. That just makes this whole thing more interesting, so yeah, I wanna see how you measure up against me. Second, technically you’re not trying to win, are you? Not really. You’re trying to make Rainbow Dash notice you, and that’s not the same thing. Me, I’m just trying to have a good time, and right now beating you is looking like a good time.”

Scootaloo growled. “I’m not gonna let you beat me, Spike.”

“You’d better not. You want Rainbow Dash to notice you? Make her notice you. Don’t suck up to her, don’t whine about winning or losing a competition, just compete, and compete hard. You’re not some namby pamby pony who gets upset when somepony calls her names. You’re Scootaloo; the toughest little pony in town. I can’t just let you win: it’s my dragon honour on the line, and you can bet Rainbow Dash would notice it if I held back, too.”

Scootaloo realised she’d been had. Spike had played her like a fiddle: he’d gotten her angry enough to stop being sad. Shame it didn’t last. “I doubt it. She doesn’t even know my name.”

“She will. But in the meantime, I'm not gonna hold back to make it easier on you. Rainbow Dash wouldn’t accept that, not from me or you.”

“You’re right; she wouldn’t.”

“So we agree? Last contest, fair fight? No whining, no cheating?” He extended a hand to her.

She took it and shook it. “It’s a pony race, Spike. It’s not gonna be fair to you.”

“I’ve kept up with ponies so far, haven’t I?”

“Good point.”

A bell sounded in the distance.

“That’s our cue,” Spike said, getting up and making his way to the field.

“Hey, Spike?” the filly asked, trailing behind.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. Even if you don’t know what kind of dragon you are, at least you’re the good kind.”

“Thanks. Speaking of which, while we are on the subject, mind if I ask for a favour? Just a teensy tiny little thing, in case it ever comes up?” He started fidgeting with his fingers, and looking everywhere but at her.

“What?”

He cocked his thumb towards his back. “On the off chance I do ever, you know, grow wings, mind if I learn to fly with you?”

If this was a ploy to confuse her, it worked. “Sure, I guess. But why?”

“I’ve seen Rumble in flight practice. And Thunderlane. And... Rainbow Dash.” His eyes went wide as he thought more and more about it. “And Derpy.” He shuddered. “To tell you the truth, pegasi scare me.”

She grunted. “Oh. And I don’t, is that what you’re saying?”

“No. You don’t scare me; you’re the only pegasus I’ve ever seen wearing a helmet. At least I can trust you not to get me killed on my first flight. If that’s okay with you, I mean.”

“No problem. You know, if it ever gets to that.”

The two walked on, side by side, both silent and peaceful, their differences resolved, for now.

Then they passed the shed.

“Doperhead!”

“Treehugger!”

Spike groaned. “Are they still at it?”

“Sounds like it.”

“Cheater!”

“Juice guzzler!”

The two were past the shed when they heard the strange noise, but they both heard it. Unmistakeably, undeniably, it was the sound of a kiss, followed by a deathly silence.

Spike pointed a finger at the shed. “Did they just-”

“Sounds like it,” Scootaloo interrupted.

“Didn’t you have a crush on Rumble, though?”

“Does everypony in this town know all of my secrets?!” the filly cried out.

“No, but Sweetie Belle mentioned it once. Do you?”

“Honestly, right now I don’t care. You’re right: pegasi are scary.”

Rarity was pacing about the premises, looking for the other half of the potential disaster that might unfold today. Either that, or somepony who could help deal with it. She saw her chance when just such a helpful pony walked her way. “Oh, Thunderlane, just the stallion I was looking for. Did you see Twilight, by any chance?”

Thunderlane turned his head to where he’d come from. “Yeah, she was having a snack, we talked.”

“Ah, and? Is she alright?”

He winced, but nodded. “For now, but she needs to get some sleep, soon. That spell’s really messing with her, and I don’t think she’s going to turn it off.”

“And did she mention why she’s doing it?”

“She said Spike’s had it rough recently, and she feels guilty about it.”

Rarity pondered that for a moment. “Yes, he has had to endure quite a lot, I suppose. Vinyl Scratch isn’t feeling too well, either. She was at a concert the other night, if you can believe it.”

“She went to a concert the day before the Sisterhooves? Yeesh, that’ll take it out of ya.”

“Actually, she was hosting one. Jockeying disks, as it were. All night.”

“Great,” Thunderlane said with a grunt. “So we’ve got two unicorns who really should be in bed by now. At least they’re not turning anything into frogs yet.”

Rarity afforded herself a little chuckle under her breath. “I doubt they’d have the energy for that now, to be honest. Still, do you think we should tell anyone?”

“You tell me. You’re a referee for this thing.”

“On a different event, yes, but you’re a competitor. You have to go against them. Would it be fair to get them both disqualified? For their own safety, if nothing else?”

The stallion shrugged. “I don’t know. They’ve been competing fine so far. Neither of them is really the hotshot kind of unicorn, there’s no magic allowed, so they’re probably not gonna misfire or anything. It’s what’ll happen at the end of the day that worries me.”

“I suppose it is only the Sisterhooves, not a gauntlet. I’m sure it’s just silly pony drama,” Rarity said. “Nothing to be concerned about, as concerning as it may look.”

“No, you’re right. I mean, no pony in their right mind would push themselves beyond their body’s limits just to help someone else win a silly prize,” Thunderlane said. “I’m sure Twilight wouldn’t.”

“And no pony would try to make everything perfect for somepony else to the point that they don’t realise they’re hurting themselves,” Rarity said. “Vinyl certainly wouldn’t.”

Thunderlane looked away, the memories of hurricane duty and the hospitalisation that followed it still fresh in his memory. This was totally different from what Twilight was risking, though.

Rarity looked away, too, the memories of sleepless nights and fretting and worrying over what her friends might think, what her peers might say of her, also fresh in her mind. But that was nothing like Vinyl and the pressure of her family situation, not at all the same.

“Right, so everything is in order, then,” Rarity said. “Good luck on the field.”

“Thanks. Enjoy the show.”

“So how’d it go?” Vinyl asked once the girl came back.

“Umm, good, I think,” Scootaloo replied, hesitantly at first. “We talked it out. Like civil ponies. Spike said he was sorry, and I said I was sorry, too. I overreacted.”

“And?”

Scootaloo thought for a moment, before realising what her aunt wanted to hear. “And we both agreed we’d play fair for the next event. No whining, no taunting, no nothing.”

Vinyl walked over and patted the girl on the back. “Good girl. I know that’s not an easy thing for you to say.”

“Are you kidding? It was perfectly fine. No biggie. It’s not like we got all mushy or anything.” Scootaloo forced out another bright smile for her aunt, in true Canterlot fashion.

Even with the shades on, Vinyl’s expression was pretty clear to read.

“Okay, maybe we did talk a lot. About big stuff.”

“You two do have some things in common,” Vinyl said, stroking along the length of Scootaloo’s wings. No feathers fell, so she wasn’t shedding, that was good. A coarser patch of hairs between the wings, though, that was a sure sign the girl was either feeling anxious or getting over a bout of panic.

“Maybe a couple of little things. Spike asked me if he could fly with me sometime.”

“But he doesn’t have any wings.”

“Yet. And he doesn’t want to ask any other pegasus pony because I’m the only one who wears a helmet.”

“Told you you two had some things in common. You’re both pretty smart kids, for starters.” Vinyl winked.

“Thanks. Anyway, we settled it, oh, and I think Rumble and Apple Bloom kissed.”

Vinyl froze. “Really? Those two?”

“They were arguing in the shed nearby, but… they kissed. I heard. We heard.”

“Huh. Who started it?”

“Didn’t see.”

Vinyl nudged the little filly. “And how are you holding up about it? I mean, Rumble was kinda your… you know...”

Scootaloo scrunched her nose in a mix of confusion and disgust. “Honestly? I have no idea. I don’t really talk to Rumble all that much. I’m not sure if that’d be a good idea in the first place, if I can’t fly. And come to think of it, most ponies don’t talk to Rumble all that much. But, still… he was the only other pony I could ask.”

“I wouldn’t think too much about it; Rumble’s got his family just like you’ve got yours. It wouldn’t have worked in the first place.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Focus on Rainbow Dash for now, forget about Rumble and Apple Bloom. They were probably caught up in the moment or something. Or they knew you were listening and they’re trying to get you off your game.”

The girl rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Rumble wouldn’t-wait, no, Apple Bloom would totally do that, never mind.”

Vinyl snickered.

“Hey, Aunt Vinyl?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d tell me if you were too tired to keep going, right?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just that… I really want to win, but I don’t want you to get hurt over it.”

Vinyl pulled her closer into a hug. “Don’t worry about me, kiddo. I’m the grownup; I’m the one looking out for you. You just make sure you think of something to say to Rainbow Dash when you win.”

Spike looked back as he cantered over to the mare, right where he’d left her. “Hey, Twilight?”

“Yes, Spike?” Twilight replied. Her eyes clenched shut for a moment as another electric shock went through her, but she smiled through it, regardless.

Spike winced. Maybe Scootaloo had a point. “You’re sure you’re okay, right? I mean, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, or if you can’t.”

“I’m fine, Spike, and I made a promise. You and I are going to run this last race, we’re going to do our best, and we might even win.”

“But you’re shaking, and you’re tired.”

Another shock, and Twilight walked over to pat him on the back. “It’s nothing, Spike, really. I promised, and after what happened with Peewee and… everything, you deserve to have a good time.”

Spike shook his head. “Thanks, but if you’re going to hurt yourself doing it, I don’t want it.”

“Good thing I’m not hurting myself, then, right? It’s fine, Spike, I appreciate your concern, but you just focus on competing.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Besides, this is my Canterlot unicorn code of honour on the line. You know how important a code of honour is, don’t you?”

There, he had to concede. “Well, when you put it like that...”

“Did you talk things out with Scootaloo?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, it’s fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. It’s nothing, Twilight. Really.”

The contestants stood ready at the starting line. Vinyl looked left, then right, then bit down the headache that was forming. Her body had recovered during the nap, sure, but she was still in a suboptimal mode: that of a pony waking up in the middle of the night. She wasn’t ready for this sort of thing, not really.

But she’d promised, and Scootaloo was eager.

I can do this. Just concentrate. Who’s in the running?

Derpy and Dinky, we can outpace them on the short range. Berry Punch, she’s just here to have fun with her little sister, they’re not a threat. Thunderlane and Rumble, Applejack and Apple Bloom, Twilight Sparkle and Spike, those are the ones to keep your eyes on. Just need to figure out a strategy and we’re good to go.

“Okay, everypony,” the referee called out. “The final event is a standard rodeo endurance run. First you will need to cross the sandy mudpit. Be careful, as the mudpit has been arranged to be in line with Equestrian Dirt Games rules and as such, it does not have an equal depth across its length, you will encounter sinkholes. Pegasus ponies, you are permitted to use your wings to stabilise, jumping is allowed, but any prolonged loss of contact with the mud will result in immediate disqualification.”

Vinyl nudged her niece. “You take point and keep your wings out, let me know where there’s sinkholes.”

“Got it,” Scootaloo said with a confident nod.

“We should get a lead over Spike and Twilight, and the Apples, but Thunderlane and Rumble’ll be ahead of us.”

“Why?”

“Call it a hunch. Don’t try to rush to catch up to them, wait for me. If you go too far from me, I won’t know where to put my hooves. I’m counting on you for this bit.”

Again, Scootaloo nodded, keeping her eyes focused on the trail ahead. “I won’t let you down.”

“You will arrive from the mudpit at the haybale jump. It’s three jumps and one climb, wings are allowed, but no wingbeats beyond launch. Also no spellcraft to blast the things, either from a horn or your breath. This means you, young Mister Dragon.”

“No problem,” Spike said, saluting the ref.

“Beyond that we have the traditional grape squeezing. One pony enters the barrel, the other readies the bottle. You may pass when the juice fills the bottle up to the lower end of the neck. Hoofwork only, again. Or footwork, as is appropriate.”

“We can catch up to the brothers then,” Vinyl said. “I can toss you into the barrel, you just make as big of a splash as you can. By the time I can reach the valve, you’ll have plenty of juice ready. Think you can make that jump if I nudge you?”

“Arms out bellyflop? Too easy,” Scootaloo replied, licking her lips.

“Then we have the egg pass. You are to collect one egg from the standardised hennery and transport it, intact, to the collection point. Two eggs are required to pass.”

Scootaloo went quiet. So did Vinyl.

“I don’t need to say it, do I?” Vinyl said eventually.

“Nope.”

“And lastly, we have the hurdle run. Five second penalty per hurdle knocked over, as per Equestrian Games rules. Open wings are permitted, gliding is allowed, but no flapping. Any questions?”

None came. The referee nodded and took her position to the side, flag in hoof. “Ready?”

“Get set, go!”

The teams all dashed towards the mudpit. Vinyl grinned at the mass rookie mistake. As she’d expected, only Thunderlane and Rumble had thought to go for a smoother, quick trot than a gallop, letting the little boy tap his hooves on the ground to check for traps while his brother carefully put his weight on the safe spots.

Derpy was the first to go under, leaving Dinky to try and pull her out. Berry Punch was more careful, but a misstep sent her backside sinking into the mess.

Scootaloo was on point, quickly catching up to Rumble.

“Here, here, hop over this spot, slide over this one...” She kept on talking so her aunt would know where to put her hooves.

“Good goin’, kiddo. Keep your wings where I can see’em, don’t want to make the refs upset.”

Scootaloo nodded without missing a beat. Before long, Thunderlane and Rumble had cleared the first obstacle, with Scootaloo and her aunt about five paces behind. The boys took full advantage of their lead, though, dashing on solid ground.

“Don’t get distracted, Scoots,” Vinyl said.

Scootaloo patted the ground again and made the final few steps to safety, Vinyl quickly behind. They both bolted once they’d cleared.

“See? Easy peasy,” Vinyl said, going into full gallop. Even as she said it, though, a wave of vertigo hit her. Oh, no. No, no, no, not now. Come on, breathe. Dumb brain, take that oxygen, don’t let me fail now.

“Yeah, Spike wasn’t even-” Scootaloo gasped when she saw.

Vinyl looked behind her, and groaned at the sight.

Spike and Twilight had taken an alternative route through the mud pit, namely straight through the mud. Apparently Vinyl had forgotten about the dragon’s tunneling claws. The refs sure had. Twilight shook off as much of the mud as she could, and she was off.

“Don’t get distracted now. Come on, haybale jumps, go!”

Scootaloo needed no further encouragement. She was fit enough to clear the first single bale, then the two-pile, then the threesome that had forced Rumble to slow down and clamber over it like a set of stairs. Vinyl Scratch stayed behind the girl for good measure, but it made no difference. They passed by the pegasus brothers, and they hit the twelve-stack tower of hay at the same time as the boys.

Then Spike and Twilight showed up. Twilight looked a right mess with all the residual dirt in her hair, but with that trip through the dirt her eyes were the scariest part: they now had the bloodshot quality of a momma bear about to maul some unfortunate documentary maker.

Even in her addled state, Vinyl wondered if that’s what her own eyes looked like now.

“Come on, up!” Vinyl said, nudging the girl up the first bale.

The boys were both climbing at their own pace, neither one picking the other up or pulling along. Thunderlane got to the top in short order, but Rumble didn’t have the size to follow his brother’s pace.

“Come on, Rumble, you can do it!” Thunderlane called out.

Scootaloo looked at Rumble as she passed him by with her aunt pushing her along. “Umm, shouldn’t we...”

“I know what you’re gonna say, but no,” Vinyl said. “Rumble’s trying to do this on his own. You’re trying to stop having to do things on your own, so keep moving!”

Scootaloo finally made it to the top, Vinyl climbed behind.

“Okay, down’s a lot easier,” the mare said, sighing.

The sigh felt like all the air left her body. Her head felt foggy, darkness crept into her vision. Her hearing switched off for a second.

“Aunt Vinyl?”

She heard again. She was fine. “Just catchin’ my breath, Scoots. Gotta make it look like I can’t keep up with you, right?” She winked.

Scootaloo beamed with joy, then hopped down the bales at a merry pace.

“Come on! Go! Go!” Rainbow Dash cried out from the sidelines.

Vinyl steeled herself. Rainbow Dash was watching. Just a little more.

She felt fine. A little out of breath, but after another quick bolt across the court, once she got in range she managed to chuck Scootaloo high enough for her to hit the grape barrel with a firm splash, all according to plan.

Vinyl felt drunk again. That numbness on her face, all the way up to her ears, threw off her timing. The tingling in her extremities didn’t help, either. Not that it mattered, as all she had to do was get to the other end of the barrel and open the tap.

The grape juice flowed easily, the bottle was full in no time.

And Twilight and Spike were almost as far.

“More dragon tricks, I guess. Scootaloo, come on! We got the bottle full!” She looked over to a referee, who nodded in agreement.

Scootaloo, for her part, came dashing out of the barrel and rushed towards the hen house even as Spike and Twilight caught up, with Thunderlane and Rumble managing to close the gap in, frankly, a frighteningly short time.

Vinyl paid it no heed, though. She stumbled, she had to catch her breath, but she got to the hen house and took the spoon to carry the egg with.

When Scootaloo and Vinyl exited, they had a cult following of poultry, of course. Scootaloo had told her aunt about the chicken jokes she’d heard in class a while back, and Vinyl had had to suppress a fit of the giggles then. Part of their lineage included a grandmaster in transformation magic, about five hundred years ago. It was rumoured the unicorn had struck a deal with some infernal turkeys in exchange for his powers, allowing him to turn his opponents into peacocks, swans, but his curse of choice was to turn his foes into chickens.

So many generations later, and both Vinyl and her niece still had an odd sway over the feathered creatures. No one in Ponyville knew, and neither of them wanted to change that. Vinyl shooed the fowl creatures away with a shake of her hind hooves.

The white mare felt a headrush come up as she trotted with the spoon in her mouth, egg balancing precariously on the end. Twilight and Spike were right behind.

Almost there.

She heard a noise behind her. A loud ‘bzzzzzt’ that lasted far longer than usual, then a dull thud, a wet ‘crack,’ and a panicky dragon voice calling Twilight’s name.

Vinyl felt the blood leave her head, her heart skipping beats as she approached the basket. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the stallion and colt galloping carelessly with their eggs. How they managed to keep them intact, she didn’t know.

She bent her head down to put the egg in the basket.

The brothers passed her by, depositing their eggs.

There was more noise, but she couldn’t tell what it was.

“Aunt Vinyl? Come on, we gotta go!”

Vinyl tried to lift her head up, but her body wouldn’t respond. Her breath caught.

Something hit her on her right side, and her mouth went dry. She could practically taste the gravel. Only then did it register that the weight of her head wasn’t supported by her neck anymore. All the pressure of gravity was coming from her right side for some reason, which was weird, because she was still standing.

Wasn’t she? She must’ve been, as she felt none of the pain that would surely accompany a fall. The pressure stayed, though, and she couldn’t summon the strength to fight it.

Her glasses fell off, but weirdly enough, she didn’t feel any bright light hit her eyes.

If anything, all she could see was darkness…

Author's Note

Sorry for the delays, everyone. Real life got in the way. I don't think there's any ands or buts about it.

Regarding the Scootaloo/Spike dialogue at the start... no, it wasn't inspired by anything, it was always going to go down that route. I've written Scootaloo so often, it always goes along similar lines, but I hadn't paired her with Spike for the issues yet, which is weird, because he makes even more sense for her to relate to than any OC I've tossed at it, or Rumble.

One more chapter and we're done. All in all, it didn't turn out quite the way I'd planned. It got a lot darker and more depressing than I'd intended, certainly compared to the original (that one chapter notwithstanding), which is again one of the reasons I usually don't publish before I'm finished. But it had been too long, and I wanted to get it out. So here we are.

I promise there's more good feels and laughs in the next one. Expect some Caneighdian jokes.

The Aftermath.

The first thing Vinyl noticed was her heart: it pounded in her chest like a hammer, only mildly calming down as she woke up. Next was the wetness: her right cheek felt moist and cold with her drool, dripping onto the grass below. When she closed her mouth, she could still feel little grains of dirt grinding on her teeth. Beyond that, little aches and bumps of where the pebbles had jabbed into her coat started registering in her consciousness. Nothing major, none of them had pierced the skin, from the feel of it.

She looked down at her prone form. Somepony had put her glasses beside her. The lenses were cracked. Vinyl rubbed her pounding head once she got the strength for it. “Ow… what happened?”

“I think we slipped,” Twilight replied. “Or rather, we fainted. I saw you collapse in mid-gallop, and I… I got shocked too hard by my spell, and it ended up knocking me out cold instead of keeping me awake.”

“Oh.” Vinyl turned and sat up, and Twilight did the same. Looking around, she noticed they were both sitting in the shade of a tree, far enough away from anypony else to rest but not so far as to be out of sight. The ponies who’d competed were celebrating a day of competition. “So who won?”

“Thunderlane and Rumble.”

Vinyl wanted to slap herself, or punch herself, or curse herself, but she was too tired and too weak to do any of it. She’d failed. “Dangit. How’s Scootaloo taking it?”

“No idea. I only just woke up, too. I think my spell’s worn off now.”

Vinyl turned to look at Twilight then. She flinched in sympathy, and instantly her memories and reflexes kicked in. Twilight needed some cotton swabs wet with Firefly Dew to clean around her ears, some icecubes for the bumps, and that horn definitely needed to rest, judging from the broken sparks and the frazzled fur around its base. Twilight looked downright broken. “No kidding, you look as bad as me. What did you do to yourself?”

“Nothing special. I cast Bitterroot’s Stay Awake spell on myself. You know, to stay awake.”

Vinyl’s ears twitched. “You do know that’s not a healthy spell to cast, right? I’m pretty sure it’s not even legal.”

Twilight chuckled. “What? Of course it’s legal; the referees allowed it.”

“Sure, the referees will let you do that to yourself in a game, but normal unicorns aren’t allowed to know it in the first place, not without a permit.”

“But it’s a Bitterroot spell. He was a world-class medic, half of our regeneration spells came from him.”

“Uh, yeah, he was, for a while.” The white mare rolled her eyes. “And when the Third Tribal Wars broke out, the Emperor of Caneighdia made him Head of the Inquisition. That’s when he got a little creative and that’s when he made that spell.”

“Really?” Twilight furrowed her brow. “Did I get the names mixed up? I thought the Head of the Inquisition was Dastard Lee Pernicious of the Ten Tortures?”

“No, Pernicious was the Plague General.”

“Oh. Huh. Then which one came up with the Ten Tortures?”

“Fluffy Cottonpuff, the Mildly Inconvenient.”

“Riiight, now I remember. Well, that explains that, I guess. I do have a permit, mind you, and Princess Celestia did send me the book for it. I must’ve forgotten the details. You know how words can dance on a page once the light dies down.” The bookwurm yawned and closed her eyes. “I can only blame myself. I shouldn’t have stayed up so long. It’s just those restoration spells that keep eluding me. I can do a healing seal perfectly fine, but I can’t do restoration for some reason. If I could just find the answer to that stupid Pole Problem, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It’s geometry,” Vinyl blurted out, picking up her cracked glasses.

“What?”

“The Pole Problem? It’s geometry, not anything to do with actual poles, no sticks or magnets or anything.” Vinyl gestured with her hooves over the lenses. “When you cast a restoration spell on something that’s not alive, then that’s not a regeneration spell, it doesn’t follow the same principle. You don’t have veins or organs you can run magic through, so you need to make a box around the item. A mental box, one in your head, like a model. It’s not enough to see the item itself, there’s a lot of rules to it. The point is, making boxes around harder shapes and detail takes a lot of concentration, and the spell doesn’t like it when your box has bad poles.”

“But what are bad poles?” Twilight asked.

“When you make the box out of energy, you’re drawing a line mesh, and you have to make it all squares; no triangles or circles. Around important stuff, like frames or doors, you make loops. And on a corner, when a flat plane flows down, you have a line on the x, y, and z-axis.” Vinyl drew the figure in the air, creating lines of blue light over the glass surface, eventually wrapping the whole thing in thin blue lines. “That’s a three-point pole, that’s where the magic turns 3D. Then you have five-point poles, which is where two loops will meet and separate. One point, where five lines meet.” She pointed to two such points on her glasses, beside the left lens, where the shape blended into the nose area. “Never make six-sided poles, ever. And never visualise triangles. You have to subdivide the surface shapes while you’re casting, and triangles mess that up really, really badly.” A little squint and the squares she’d covered her magic in subdivided, making more of a sheet and clinging closer to the actual shape of the thing, rather than forming a box around it. Another effort of magic, the light spread out in flat faces instead of lines, and her glasses reformed, good as new.

“Oh, so I shouldn’t be looking at staves or geography, I should look at wireframes?”

She put the glasses back on and smiled nonchalantly. “Exactly. That’s why you couldn’t find it; restoration magic is multi-disciplinary. It’s based on more raw numbers than the other ones. It came up around the time the Lower Marshes had their civil war, and you know how those ponies were about translating their books or sharing their arts. Anyway, it’s a lost art now, the core of it still gets taught, but it’s mostly teachers and students, not written down a lot, because of the more, umm, dangerous things you can do with that technique.”

Twilight sighed in relief. “Gosh, Vinyl, thank you. How do you know that stuff?”

“My dad is Zilean Pieces.”

Awkward silence fell between the two. Eventually, Twilight dared to ask the question that anyone in the know would. “The descendant of-”

“Yup. That one.”

Again, silence fell, for as long as Twilight could contain herself. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Twilight winced. “But Scootaloo is...”

“Yup.”

“And her father?”

“Mother. My big sister. Hurricane-proofer,” Vinyl explained. “Best in the business, actually. As you might imagine.”

Twilight nodded sagely. “It’s not easy sometimes, is it? You know, the whole...”

No further clue needed there. “Sometimes, no. But you try your best. I mean, you don’t have to worry about it; you’ve got your big brother taking care of the practical side of that business. But in my family, it’s… a little iffier, yeah.”

“I’ll bet. Actually, now that you mention it, Vinyl?”

“Yes?”

“Now that we have some time alone, and, umm, all things considered, I don’t suppose you’d be up for serving as my plus-one to Canterlot sometime? Or if you know anyone else who might?”

“What for?”

“Well, I don’t know if you realise, but my family has quite the reputation, and your family has quite the reputation...”

“You need a wingpony? Someone with a reputation to make yourself look better?”

Twilight bit her lip. “No; somepony to make the company I keep look better. I’d ask Rarity, but...”

“No, don’t. She’s too nice for that, you don’t wanna spoil her. Let me know when you need me, and I’ll tag along, no problem.”

“Likewise. If your father ever, you know...”

She smiled mischievously. “Oh, I’ll be sure to rub it in his face that I’m hanging out with Twilight Sparkle first chance I get.”

“Good.”

“Speaking of which, Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“If we do, umm, you know, happen to engage in social stuff in Canterlot, would it be too much to ask you to pretend to be, umm… well, you know...”

“Yes. Very much so.”

“Just checking.”

Rainbow Dash was right where she loved to be: at the centre of the attention. She had Thunderlane and Rumble nearby to amp up her stories about Weather Patrol, the other contestants were enjoying all the fine food and drink set out by the Apples, everyone was having fun.

And to her delight, Apple Bloom and Rumble had actually settled their differences, with only minimal help from her. She was feeling pretty good about herself, knowing how much of a good influence she could be on kids.

A shame she couldn’t compete, though, but then she needed a little sister for that, and she had none available.

“Rainbow Dash, could I have a word with you?” A voice drew her attention away from what was otherwise a riveting tale from Thunderlane, about the time he’d been forced to divert a flock of phoenixes all on his own.

“Sure, Rarity. What’s up?”

Rarity took her friend away from the crowds, lowering her voice. “I take it Rumble is happy with his victory?”

“You know it. We’re gonna have a blast together.”

“I’m sure you will.” She looked past the winged mare, checking if anyone was listening in. “But on that note, do you think you could, perhaps, give a little word of encouragement to Scootaloo?”

“Why?”

“Well, she had her heart set on winning the day with you and making a good impression on her idol.”

“Yeah, so did every other kid. And she lost. That’s kinda what happens when you compete. You lose to the best. Come to think of it, where is she?” Rainbow looked back. A bright orange filly like that couldn’t just disappear.

“I think I saw her with Big Macintosh, something about blood pressure medicine. At any rate, never mind that now. You don’t think she deserves even a little bit of your time?”

Rainbow shrugged. “It wouldn’t be fair to the other kids, would it?”

Clearly this wasn’t the correct angle to approach Rainbow Dash at. “Alright, then, let me rephrase, Rainbow Dash: do you think Scootaloo might one day want to compete with the likes of, oh, I don’t know, Rumble?”

That got a confident and knowing nod out of Rainbow Dash. “Sure, they’ll end up on the same track eventually. I’m surprised they aren’t hanging out together already, to tell you the truth.”

Some progress, at least. “And do you think she has the potential to compete with him? Or any other athlete, for that matter?”

“Definitely. If that squirt keeps this up, she’ll give him a run for his money.”

“And how would you propose she manage that if she doesn’t have anyone in her family to help her along, like Rumble does?”

“What do you mean?”

Rarity pointed to the stage, where Thunderlane and Rumble were taking the trophy of the year. “Rumble has Thunderlane, Featherweight has Bulk Biceps, Dinky has Derpy, all the little pegasi of Ponyville have someone to ask about improving their flight capacities. They all have families they can turn to to ask about these things. All except Scootaloo. So, if she wishes to join their ranks, keep up practice and not fall behind, how is she meant to do it?”

“Do what they do in every town in Equestria: go through the proper channels.”

Still the point was not getting reached. Truly, this was worse than pulling teeth. “Proper channels such as...”

“There’s flight instru-oh, right, Ponyville doesn’t have those. Well, she could go to the Aeroba-no, I guess she can’t really go there if she can’t fly yet. There’s the National-no, they’re in Rainbow Falls. Wait, she could try the Bat-no, never mind, that’s a little too dark for a girl like her. What did Missus Cake say…” Finally, she found the answer. “Oh, right, there’s the Weather Patrol! Yeah, she can ask somepony on the Weather Patrol for instruction. They’ve all got their certificates, they’ve got the books lying around the office, flight instruction is their job.” Rainbow nodded emphatically.

Rarity let out her most ladylike of snorts. “Rainbow Dash?”

“Yes?”

“Do you not see the issue with what you just said?”

“What issue? If Scootaloo needs help with flight practice, she can ask the Weather Patrol. That’s what they’re there for.”

Strange how Rainbow’s mind was the only thing that was slow about her. Still, Rarity persisted. “Rainbow, you are Weather Patrol.”

Realisation washed over Rainbow Dash with all the speed of a snail on lettuce. “Oh, yeah, I guess I am. But wait, why doesn’t she ask her parents?”

“They’re never around, Rainbow, I thought you knew that.”

“Doesn’t she have any other pegasi in her family?”

“If she did, she wouldn’t have asked her Aunt Vinyl to join her today, now, would she?” Rarity pointed to the tree where the two unconscious unicorns were.

Rainbow took a look for herself, and was relieved to see the two unicorns sitting up straight, at least. Twilight had pushed herself too far with that spell, and Vinyl Scratch was… weird. The idea that a pegasus filly, a speedster like herself, would have to grow up with that as the major role model, it gave Rainbow some mixed feelings.

On the one hoof, Vinyl was clearly someone who knew what she was doing. She had a good eye for strategy and tactics, both things Rainbow Dash did not have the strongest grasp of, and she was a performer like Rainbow Dash wanted to be. Vinyl Scratch was everything a girl like Scootaloo needed, as far as Rainbow was concerned.

On the other hoof, was Vinyl even fit enough to keep up with the girl? She was winded at the obstacle course, she only got through the lasso event by rules lawyering her way out of it… it didn’t seem like Vinyl was the best example in terms of sportsponyship.

Still, there were more practical matters to consider. “How am I supposed to know that? I barely know the girl, I wasn’t even sure what her name was until a month ago.”

“But she adores you, she started your fanclub.”

Rainbow grah-ed. “Kids do stuff like that all the time, Rarity. She’s not the only kid who idolises me, she’s not the only filly. And she quit my fanclub, too, as soon as somepony better came along. It’s not that big a deal. I have lots of fans, kids and grownups, I can’t go teaching all of them. How would you like it if I told you to start looking after some random girl who likes fashion?”

The unicorn flinched at the thought. “Oh, I certainly wouldn’t adopt her, if that’s what you’re asking, but I’d give her a pointer or two, at least. If nothing else, I’d let her know my honest, if careful, opinion on her work, possibly give her some pointers to help her along, keep her motivated. I don’t know that much about flight and contests and the like, Rainbow Dash. And all the pegasi in this town either do not know that field, or they already have someone to teach, usually in their own family. You can’t expect her to try and intrude on that.”

“I’m not giving Rumble’s prize away.” Rainbow Dash glared at her friend. “And if he tells me he’s giving it away, I’m not accepting that, either.”

“I’m not asking that, no one is. That’s your pegasus honour and whatnot. All I’m saying is: if you notice Scootaloo again, at least let her know something? A word or two, nothing more.”

Rainbow Dash mulled it over. “That’s all she wants?”

“As far as I know, yes. She’s not asking to be adopted; she has a family, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now.”

Rainbow nodded. That DJ was some family to have around, alright. “Fine. If I see her doing something that’s impressive, I’ll give her a word or two. And if it’s really good, I’ll give her three.”

Scootaloo came running towards Vinyl and Twilight, with Big Mac trying to keep up.

“Aunt Vinyl! Are you okay, did you hurt yourself?”

Vinyl smiled and patted the girl on the head. “I’m fine, Scootaloo. Your aunt just fell asleep on her hooves, is all.”

“So, uh, no need for the medkit?” Big Mac asked. “Twilight, you?”

Twilight winced and nodded. “I think the constant electric shocks may have messed me up a teensy bit more than I thought, so yes, please.”

Big Mac rummaged through the kit and found some patches to stick on her.

While he was distracted, Scootaloo could talk in private. “I guess you heard we lost, huh?”

Vinyl’s heart ached from hearing the girl’s dejected tone. “Yeah, I did.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Vinyl. I dragged you into this for nothing.”

“Hey, listen to me, kiddo: it’s my fault we lost.” The mare’s tone hardened. “Got that? My fault. I’m the weak link, not you. If it was a solo race, you would have beaten everypony, easily.”

“You really mean that?”

“When am I not honest with you, huh?”

Scootaloo thought it over, because she was a smart girl about such things. “Never.”

Vinyl nodded in kind. Yeah, never. Except when I really have to.

“So you’re fine now?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t get enough sleep last night, I thought I could do this with you, and I overdid it.”

The girl pouted. “You could have said so.”

“I would have, if I’d known. But your auntie’s not a smart sportspony like you are, Scoots. She doesn’t know her limits that well. It was an honest mistake, and it was my mistake. Not yours.”

Scootaloo whimpered. “I wouldn’t have asked if you-”

“Hey.” Vinyl leaned in close. “Don’t you go crying over me, okay? This isn’t big enough to shed a tear over. You didn’t do anything wrong; I did. And I’m fine now, so you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t need anti-shock patches, or pills, I’m awake now and I can catch up on sleep when we get home. But in the meantime, you should go and mingle with the others.”

“What? But you’re hurt.”

“I am not hurt. But you are missing out. Now get.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Go have fun with your friends, talk to Apple Bloom, talk to Rumble, talk to Dinky. It’s part of the event.”

The filly hesitated, even if she did look like she wanted to go see her friends. “You’re absolutely sure? Not like you were sure before?”

“Scootaloo, look at me. I’m sitting down, I’ve got my back straight, I’ve got another pony here to keep an eye on me, and if anything happens, Big Mac’ll hear me, won’t you, Big Mac?”

“Eeyup,” came the reply.

“See? I’m okay, I’m safe. You did what you had to do, you got a good look at me like a responsible little filly, now go. You need to get used to talking to fellow competitors, after all. Wouldn’t want to start any bad habits.”

“No, Ma’am.” Without looking back, because she knew Aunt Vinyl would surely stare her down, Scootaloo went off to mingle with the other kids. She got in between Apple Bloom and Rumble first, no doubt exchanging some choice words about that kiss.

“There, that should just about do it,” Big Mac said. “That’s one patch for your heart, one for each shoulder, one for the tail and thighs, and one for the horn. Feel it workin’ yet?”

“Yes.” Twilight let out a blissful sigh. “Yes, that feels much better. Whew, good thing you have these around. Wait, why do you have these around? This isn’t standard issue for competitions.”

“Zap Apple farmin’. We know how to handle this sort of thing.”

“Right.”

Big Mac got up and walked off. “Just gimme a hollar if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Vinyl replied.

Once he was out earshot, Twilight saw her chance. “Trying to get Rainbow Dash to notice her, huh? Scootaloo, I mean.”

“Yup.”

“Is your family really that bad?”

“No. They’re great. Best family a gal could ask for. But only if she’s a unicorn. My big sis, she...” Vinyl shook her head. “She figured out how to game the system better than me. And Scootaloo’s not the type to game it at all. She’s used to playing fair, I’m used to playing smart, but her mom’s used to playing, well, you know...”

“Like a Canterlot unicorn?”

“Like a cheat, yes. I don’t know how she’s gonna turn out, but I’d rather teach her fair first, worry about the smart later. I’ve seen it done the other way around more than enough. No offense.”

Twilight chuckled. “None taken, I’ve seen it enough, too. But at least we’re not all bad. You’re a really good aunt, for one thing.”

“A good aunt wouldn’t have messed up her schedule like that. A good aunt wouldn’t be so stupid to let her little niece watch a horror movie like The Crystal Collar to try and make her tougher. A good aunt would have handled a girl like that on her own and not needed any help.”

“I doubt that,” Twilight offered. “A good aunt would make those mistakes just as easily as a bad aunt.”

Vinyl scoffed. “Then what’s the difference?”

“A bad aunt wouldn’t have cared, or even tried.”

Thunderlane came striding towards the pair once the crowd started dissipating and the first few ponies were headed home. “Hello, ladies. Feeling better now?”

Twilight rolled her eyes at the stallion. “Yes, I know, I know. You warned me, Thunderlane. And out of all the ponies who could have warned me, I should have listened to you the most.”

Vinyl snickered.

Thunderlane gestured towards town. “You need a ride home?”

“You’re not going to chew me out more?” Twilight asked.

“I think you can do that to yourself just fine, thanks. Besides, you didn’t chew me out when I was in your shoes. Wouldn’t be fair.” He winked. “Now, do you need someone to carry you home or not?”

Twilight and Vinyl exchanged a glance.

Twilight tried to get up on her hooves, but she clearly struggled. “I’m afraid so. That spell really did a number on my body. But don’t you need to look after Rumble?”

“I can leave him alone for a little bit, pick him up later. Rumble?” Thunderlane called out. “Twilight’s leaving. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

The little colt hopped and fluttered towards them. “Oh, okay. Bye, Twilight.” He waved a hoof at her. “Hope you feel better soon.”

“Thank you. Where’s Spike, though?”

“Right here, Twilight.” Spike waved in salute, before waddling towards her. The foals he’d been entertaining with what Twilight could only assume were his tales from the dragon lands looked disappointed. “I told you you should take a rest.”

The mare rolled her eyes. “I know, I should have listened. I’m sorry, Spike.”

“Don’t worry. We had fun today, that’s what matters.”

Twilight managed a weak smile as she got up on her four hooves again, a little less shaky now.

“Come on.” Thunderlane nudged her and let her drape herself over his body. “I’ll try not to fly too rough. Comfy?”

She was already snoring and drooling by the time he took off from the ground.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ Vinyl, you need a lift, too?”

“Nah, I can walk home.”

“You’re sure? It’s no trouble.”

“I’m sure. I didn’t use any magic, for starters.” She tapped her horn to illustrate. “You go, I can make it home on my own. And if I can’t, you know Scootaloo will call.”

“Okay.”

He was off, Twilight was out. Vinyl looked at the crowds again, to Scootaloo and the other foals, and to Rainbow Dash, who was talking to the grownups. Perfectly normal, of course, especially with Spike monopolising the attention of the kids with his stories again, not to mention Rumble bragging about his brother.

Scootaloo was just another one of the kids.

And if Vinyl had to be perfectly honest, she wasn’t sure if she should be happy with that or not.

“Ah, well. Couple more minutes, then home.”

The chatting was done, the last of the stands and podiums and obstacle courses was cleaned up, the afternoon had come and gone, with evening standing by awkwardly to take its place.

Scootaloo came towards Vinyl, and Vinyl smiled, getting back on four hooves, or rather three, as she had a limp in her front left hoof.

“Ready to go home?” Vinyl asked.

“Yup.”

“Apple Bloom and Rumble didn’t give you any grief?”

“Nope.” She turned to look at the pair, her expression a strange mix of sympathy and disgust. “They, err, they had a good explanation.”

“Good.” The two walked off, with Vinyl keeping that left hoof up and skipping along while Scootaloo pondered the day’s events.

“Umm, Aunt Vinyl?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For, you know, everything. I’m really glad I got to do this with you.”

“Aren’t you sad we lost?”

She chuckled. “Only a little. But we did our best. And you look really tired.”

“Not too tired to try. Somepony’s gotta keep you up to speed with all the crazy kids in this town. And you would’ve won if it weren’t for me.”

“Maybe. I don’t think if I could have. Rumble and Apple Bloom are really strong.”

Vinyl sighed. “Yeah, they are. But they’ve got a leg up on you, and they won’t always have it so easy against you.”

“You know, you didn’t have to do all that just for me. You didn’t have to hurt yourself.”

“I know, you’re a tough kid that doesn’t need any mollycoddling. But I did it anyway. I’m the adult, I decided, and I’m not sorry. Neither should you.”

“I’m not.” Scootaloo looked behind her. “Oh, Aunt Vinyl?”

“Yeah?”

“You can stop limping now; Rainbow Dash left a while ago and nopony else is looking.”

Vinyl looked back at the orchard, then picked the girl up and carried her in her neck, trotting off at a brisk pace. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

“Think you can make it all the way home?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, kiddo. I blew my energy on the sprint, is all. I’ll get you home, fix you up some dinner, then get to bed.”

Scootaloo pouted. “How about I get us dinner instead? It is a market day, and we did eat a lot for lunch. I can go over to Daisy’s, see what she’s got. And then you can catch up on sleep until Octavia gets home, and we’ll all eat together.”

Vinyl stopped and wiped her eyes. Pollen season was getting to her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re a good kid, Scootaloo. Never let anypony tell you otherwise. And you’ve got yourself a deal; you pick what’s for dinner.”

The girl grumbled. “Definitely anything without cherries. Or chicken eggs.”

“Obviously.”

The End

Author's Note

So that's that. Long in the making, plagued by development difficulties, but it's done. Next is a request from superfun, and after that I need to seriously re-evaluate my writing. I feel like it's gone downhill ever since that leaving drama last year. Expect an experimental fic again sometime. Either that, or resume Bastion's storyline. Show canon's really done a number on that. Oh, and the Niko fic, which has its own issues. And the novel...

Cracker's always got stuff to do, ain't he?

Anyway, Pole Problem? Watch any Blender video on topology. That's the actual explanation for it; triangles create problems for subdivision surfaces or multiresolution modifiers, which in turn makes things look horrid, in theory. In gaming, it's less of a factor. Why Lower Marshes? Blender is Dutch.

The practical side of it, and Vinyl's attempted request? If you can't read it between the lines, you're too young to understand, probably. Suffice to say I was pleasantly surprised to see Season 7 Twilight act in line with this fic's version of canon.

Why Bitterroot and the Inquisition? Fairly Odd Parents. Aldon Bitterroot was a witch hunter who was also a witch, and almost had Dimmsdale named after him. Fluffy Cottonpuff wasn't inspired by Fluffypony or whatever it's called, it just seemed an appropriate name and title for a Caneighdian terror.

I liked adding a little more attention to Thunderlane here, giving him more of his typical 'nice guy' vibe before he became a Wonderbolt. Again, I usually model Rumble after Aqualad, so Thunderlane becomes what little I know of Aquaman in terms of personality. Which is very, very little, so I'm glad it worked out.