Dear Scootaloo,
Sweetie Belle sat and regarded the immobile typewriter. As one of the mechanical devices that Twilight Sparkle had brought back from her trips across the dimensions, it was lacking. In particular, it just sat there like a mechanical lump instead of going any further. A proper device would be able to make sense out of the chaos mixing around in her head, bring the ideas out into clear black words on the white paper, and let her know what she was trying to say. It worked fine for her homework on thaumatological constructs or historical papers. In fact, the other students at the school often had Sweetie type up their papers too, because she had taken to the skill so well, and other unicorns just made pop-pop-pop noises before the inevitable cursing and trying to find where the eraser had gone.
She was everything her parents and Rarity had wanted: star student, talented singer, popular fellow classmate, but there were times when she would throw it all away if she could just go back in time to when she was clinging frantically to Scoots’ wagon as the three of them caromed through town on their way to another cutie-mark gaining opportunity. The warm sun across her back, the feeling of the wind through her mane… and the tree sap, she supposed. Not everything in life was good, but it should outweigh the bad.
It was easy from this distance to ignore just how frustrated she had been with her magic back then when it came so freely now. When Sweetie visited her sister’s boutique in Canterlot, Rarity did not cringe away from a little help lifting or arranging cloth, or receiving youthful fashion advice. Even when she visited Ponyville, Apple Bloom was right out there with her sister Applejack, bucking apples as if she had been born to the task. And Scootaloo…
Rainbow Dash was so busy at the Wonderbolts with her position as Team Captain, although it was just temporary for the moment until Spitfire recovered from her accident. Someday soon the job would be permanent, unless she also spun out during a particularly difficult stunt. It would have been so good to see Scootaloo alongside her hero, breaking the sky wide open with their energy, except…
Today, I had a good day at class. We had a presentation on Venomous Tendrillias, and one of them got loose in the classroom. All of the other students ran around like the chickens in Fluttershy’s pen did when we crashed into it that one time, and she made us apologize to each of them by name. Remember that? I remembered Fluttershy’s lesson about treating venomous snakes with care, and Miss Zecora’s rhyming lecture on aggressive vines in the Everfree, and mushed them together to catch it. The teacher gave me ten extra points and told the rest of the students how smart I was. I wish she hadn’t done that.
The last ‘tick’ of the typewriter faded into the empty dorm room, leaving Sweetie looking at the paper again. It was a good start, but not good enough for her best friend. It would have been so nice to be able to talk with Scoots instead of writing a letter. The last time she had visited home and talked with Apple Bloom, they had not gotten enough time together. It was always Pipsqueak this, and Pipsqueak that, and did Sweetie know what that romantic fool had done to attract her attention this week. Scoots would have liked to have seen how Featherweight had bulked up over the last year. The Terrible Twins is what the town called them now. Before long, the gangly colt would be off to Wonderbolt training also, and with any luck, would fill the slot that Scootaloo deserved.
No, that was just sour apples. Nopony deserved things in life. They worked for them, planned the details out, and… sometimes got them, or even more. And of course, sometimes they did not, no matter how they worked for their goals. Princess Twilight said it was a triumph of free will over the iron shackles of predeterminism.
Still, bad things happened.
Bad things like every other student in the dorm sneaking off to a party that Sweetie had not been invited to. She had tried so hard to get the other students to like her, and it had seemed as if they were warming up to her. Sure, there were pranks pulled on her, but all students had to go through that. They weren’t being mean, just being like Diamond Tiara had treated everypony before she had changed, and since Sweetie and her friends had managed that little miracle, the process had seemed to be on the right track.
Until now.
Letter. She would feel better after finishing the letter. Maybe she could just stop now. It really didn’t matter. Except to her. And Twilight, who had the nerve to assign this task.
I’ve been getting really good scores on my tests, even the math that you used to have such trouble with. Remember when we would spend hours on our tummies in front of the fireplace in the library, counting marshmallows while Twilight tutored us? She knew I wasn’t behind, but she made me stay with you so it wouldn’t be so embarrassing. And it worked, too. Twilight still has that perfect math paper you did framed in her castle. Admittedly, it’s charred on one side to the point where you can’t read it, but she said it was one of her fondest memories. And mine too.
Sweetie frowned at the typewriter. There was enough now. She could quit. Twilight was not going to grade this, after all. Scootaloo would have been counting words, trying to figure out just where to quit. Apple Bloom would have still been at the top of the page, holding a dripping quill in her mouth. The tug of those memories was impossible to resist. Starlight would… No, the Starswirl Wing was off-limits for perfectly good reasons.
Time was like an eggshell, fragile and thin. Sweetie felt like a baby chick who had just pecked her way out of her home, and was now cheeping at the fragments, wanting to be let back in. She closed her eyes just for a second and breathed in. The crisp scent of a Ponyville morning. Baking muffins still too hot to eat straight from Pinkie Pie’s ovens. The fading sound of Applejack shouting something that mixed ‘tarnation’ and ‘durned’ in equal measure. The buzz and flutter and hiss of Fluttershy’s animal friends scrambling out of the way of the scooter. The comforting warmth of Apple Bloom wedged into the too-small wagon at her side and knowing her friend would try to be the first one flung out at impact to cushion Sweetie’s impact. The rich smell of overstressed pinfeathers and sweaty wingpits as Scootaloo coaxed every single speck of speed out of their dangerous contraption.
I think about you all the time, and wish you were here. I miss you, Scoots. I wish we had not gone our separate ways, but I know we never would have grown the way we did otherwise. I can’t help but think of you every time I see a perfect sunset, or some cloud sculpture, or a tulip. Now that I think back, I’m not positive that you wanted to miss Miss Tulip’s flowerbeds every week. It was supposed to be punishment, but when the three of us were replanting her bulbs after the inevitable crash, I swear I used to see her smile when she thought we were not looking, and turning us back over to Pinkie Pie after the replanting was over always resulted in a consolation brownie at Sugarcube Corner. I’m not sure if I want to ask Pinkie if Miss Tulip paid for them or not. In the long term, I don’t think it matters.
The memories were so sharp, she could still smell the rich chocolate. Sweetie Belle took a deep breath and blinked away a tear, looking up when Princess Twilight Sparkle quietly slipped into her dorm room.
“Sweetie,” called out the ever-shy princess, who hesitated at the door as if this were not her school. “Are you done?”
“Almost,” she called back.
I miss you, Scoots. I always will.
Your friend forever,
Sweetie Belle
“Okay,” said Sweetie, rolling the platen up on the typewriter and removing the paper. “I’m done.”
“Very well.” Twilight Sparkle strode slowly across the dorm floor, making shadows flit and waver due to the glowing mane and tail of her new position. She stopped just short of Sweetie, floated her over a wad of tissues, and took the sheet of paper from her student in exchange. “It’s… perfect,” she added after a few moments of examination while Sweetie quietly blew her nose.
“I didn’t want to write it,” admitted Sweetie. “But I know why you made me. Thank you, Princess.”
The soft magenta of Twilight’s magic aura turned a darker red, and the sheet of paper burst into flames. In moments, the only sign the assignment had been there was a curl of dark smoke headed out the window.
“Please, call me Twilight,” insisted Princess Sparkle. “I didn’t want to give you this assignment either, but you’ve been so broody lately.”
“It’s my birthday,” said Sweetie. “Pinkie always made double-double chocolate cake, and Scoots would eat so much she would be sick, every year.” She took a deep breath, wiped off the last of her tears, and turned to look at the window. “Do you think she will get my letter?”
“We don’t know,” admitted Twilight. “Someday far in the future, when we pass where she has gone, we’ll find out. For now, we have a more important appointment. Come along.”
Allowing Twilight Sparkle’s extended wing to guide her, Sweetie walked slowly toward the dorm room door, although she stopped before passing through.
“You got Pinkie to throw me a birthday party, didn’t you, Prin— I mean Twilight?”
Twilight Sparkle nodded, with a growing smile.
“And all of my school friends are in there, waiting for us to go in and get covered in confetti and streamers?” Sweetie Belle managed a wan smile of her own when Twilight responded.
“Oh, yes. Dozens. And I’m willing to bet several of them will eat themselves sick on the cake, too.”
Sweetie Belle swallowed. “And years from now, when we’ve graduated and gone our separate ways, and have families and grandfoals…” She took a deep, deep breath. “And princesses have to do this forever?”
Twilight nodded briefly before Sweetie Belle wrapped her up in as large of a hug as she was able, wrapping her own short white wings around the elder princess until both of them could breathe normally again. They held each other for a time, like two souls lost in a sea of chaos, just trying to stay afloat. But as all things do, it came to an end, and they each took a step back to compose themselves.
“Thank you, Twilight.” Sweetie Belle gave a short sniff and rearranged her wings to smooth out a few ruffled feathers from their hug. “We should go in before Pinkie explodes from the pressure.”
And side by side, the two princesses opened the door to the future.
