“Warder!” the little unicorn shouted at his father.

“Mm? And why would you want to be one of those?”

“Like Daddy!”

“You sure Ivan? You know the job’s why I’m away so often. All you really get out of it is a nifty bracer.”

“Hero!”

“Well there is that. Let me tell you, you don’t know it yet, but walking into a bar and flashing around the bracer is the best way to pick up the mares.”

“Eeewwwww!”

“Don’t make that face. If it wasn’t for that bracer, you wouldn’t exist.”

“Well you ‘ad to make up for your, how you say… ‘ lack of charm’ somehow.” A voice said from the kitchen.

“…mares are cruel Ivan. Especially the Prench ones. Warders must use their studly power wisely.”

“Mm!”

“Gale Force, what are you teaching zat boy?”

“Lesson two. When they call you by your whole name, it means they’re mad at you. No matter what they say, you’ve slighted them somehow. They’ll be on edge until they forget.”

“Gale…”

“Lesson three. They forget faster if you give them flowers.”

“Zey won’t if they’re sunflowers. Zey’ll pick zeir teeth for an ‘alf ‘our and zink about you ze whole time.”

“Honey, I said I was sorry!”

“Well you don’t like eating zem, so why do you zink I would!?”

“Because you can magic off the bad bits?”

There was a pause.

“Lesson four. Don’t act smug when they forget the totally obvious. They’ll make a big deal when it’s your turn to be foalish.”

“I zink you want to switch places. I zink you want to feed Salad instead of bonding with our son.”

A loud crash sounded from the kitchen.

“Do not run from mommy Salad! You are ‘ungry, aren’t you?”

Another louder crash.

“Oh you will work up an appetite sooner or later Salad… but by zen you’ll be daddy’s problem! Muhahahaha!”

“…Mares. Scary.”

“You learn quick, Ivan.”

--

The smirking face of Gale Force faded as Ivan found himself returning to consciousness. He didn’t open his eyes though.

He hadn’t awakened on his own in quite some time. Normally his after-practice sleeping was interrupted by a gaggle of fillies trying to wrangle him for some reason or another.

Unexpectedly, he found himself alone, waking up peacefully, and shaking off the echoes of a pleasant (though bittersweet) memory.

When had he forgotten about being a warder?

…Ah. He had realized that earning the bracer would make it very easy for his father to find him.

Too bad. Getting paid to travel would’ve made his life a lot easier.

…although if he had got the job, chances were slim he’d be sent to Ponyville, where six unofficial warders already lived. His services wouldn’t have been required.

He heard hooffalls and familiar voices, and he lifted his brim. The crusaders had come for him.

It was better that he had ended up here. He didn’t know if he wanted to be anywhere else.

…did he?

--

They managed to find Ivan quickly enough under his usual tree, and Scootaloo noticed that as soon as he discovered they were coming, he lifted his brim, and he smiled and Ivan was happy to see them-

Having fun being part of the greatest team ever assembled could wait. They had a crisis.

“Ivan I need help!” He was probably remembering the last time she called for his help, getting to his hooves and looking serious.

He waited patiently, as Scootaloo dug through her bags and presented a slip of paper.

…he read it over, and looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“Playpen can’t since he’s got an orphanage to look after.” Scootaloo explained.

“Dash?”

“She’s got work she said.

“Fluttershy?”

“Something about nursing a bear back to health.”

“Cheerilee?”

“She said she can’t. Against the rules.”

“Pinkie?”

“Foalsitting.”

“Applejack? Rarity?”

“Applejack’s workin’ the farm.” Applebloom spoke up, “And Rarity’s takin’ Sweetie Belle. Big Mac’s takin’ me.”

“…Twilight?”

“We asked, but she said somethin’ about world changin’ science. Was talkin’ to this other unicorn… forgot his name.”

“…me?”

“You’re all we got left.” Scootaloo said. “Not that we didn’t want you or nothin’, just… it’d be hard, right?”

Ivan nodded as he looked the permission slip over again. He was hardly Scootaloo’s guardian, but if he could get Playpen’s permission, it’d be possible.

…a three day trip to Whimsyvale for storytelling and exploring a set of nearby catacombs.

Several visions of the crusaders getting lost or causing cave-ins filled his mind.

“…alright.” He agreed unsteadily.

Predictably, they cheered, and Ivan was left with a nagging feeling that he was about to sign his soul away.

“So we gotta ask Playpen, but he’s heard about you, so it shouldn’t be any trouble!”

“Joy…”

--

“…so why are you doing this?” Cheerilee asked, having met them on the way. The other crusaders had gone of to do Celestia only knew what while Scootaloo accompanied them to the orphanage. The pegasus skipped ahead and was out of earshot.

“Catacombs. Brony’s Law.” Ivan replied.

Brony’s Law was an expression that originated a few decades back in Canterlot where the general population of fraternity stallions got roaring drunk at any opportunity and essentially caused the ruined plans of the city’s entire population through several rowdy coincidences.

Impossible to plan for, or defend against.

Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.

“Well the paths we’d follow are roped off, and there are signs to make sure we don’t go off course and… and you’re talking about the crusaders.” She finished, voice falling flat.

“Yes.”

“You’re afraid they’ll do something crusader-ish, and you’ll have to step in to clean up the mess.”

“Yes.”

“…while I might remind you that you’re not the only pony in the world responsible for their well being… your concern is noted, justified, and your presence might make them more inclined to behave since, well, you’re sort of kind of one of them.”

“Mm.”

“That, and I don’t want to see Scootaloo left behind while her friends go have fun… and I suppose I’d enjoy your company as well.”

“Me too.” Ivan said, with nothing of the ever so slight embarrassment Cheerilee felt at the admission.

Cheerilee raised her hoof to knock on the door when they arrived, only for it to swing open at the last moment.

Ivan watched a banana yellow earth pony get rapped firmly on the face, just barely missing his glasses.

“Oh, Playpen! Sorry, I was just about to visit.”

“Cheerilee? I was expecting somepony…” He leaned around Cheerilee to see Ivan, who was waiting his turn patiently.

“…else.” He finished, tone something Ivan recognized.

Playpen didn’t like him very much, it seemed.

Cheerilee stepped aside, gesturing to the unicorn.

“Ah, Playpen, this is-“

“I know.” He interrupted, trotting past her.

“So you’re Ivan?” Playpen asked. Ivan sized him up.

He was an earth pony, meaning he could probably throw a mean kick if pressed. Everything about his appearance, including curly brown mane and soda bottles over his eyes, screamed ‘not good in a fight’ though. His cutie mark appeared to be a couch fort. Cool, Ivan admitted, but not intimidating.

Hypothesis: Ivan could take him with one hoof tied behind his back. Which it essentially was, so he was in luck.

Now he just hoped he wouldn’t have to beat up a caretaker in front of a house of foals.

He caught Playpen looking him over in the same way, the yellow pony’s eyes settling on his cast.

…he wondered what impressions Playpen had drawn about his personality. Did he think Ivan would throw the first hoof?

“Scootaloo talks about you all the time.” He continued, trying to make eye contact through Ivan’s brim.

“Oh?” Ivan asked, wondering how extreme the little pegasus had made him out to be.

“Something about helping beat down a legion of diamond dogs, winning a staring contest with an elder cockatrice, navigating an obstacle course of deathtraps, knocking a griffin into next year- stop me when I say something that isn’t true.”

“Accurate. Mostly.” Ivan shrugged. “Exaggerated.”

“…and you did all of that with a broken leg.”

“Not alone.”

“Pretty much everything Scootaloo said was true. If exaggerated.” Cheerilee clarified, taking a place on their side, ready to move in between if necessary.

“Well excuse me for being sceptical.” Playpen huffed. “For a while I wasn’t even sure this guy existed. It was pretty much exactly like that Buck Norris thing that happened last year.”

Now that Ivan stopped to think about it, he was pretty sure winning a staring contest with a cockatrice actually was a Buck Norris line.

…but then Fluttershy did it better then him, so…

“So you’re about to ask me to let him take Scootaloo on that trip?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Ivan, why would you want to take Scootaloo on this trip?”

“Catacombs. Brony’s law.” Scootaloo looked confused, but Playpen seemed to understand.

He raised a hoof as if to counter the point, but found himself completely unable to.

“…and… the other two crusaders are going too?” he asked instead, suddenly switching moods.

“There’s four of us now!” the pegasus declared proudly.

“Oh Luna, they’re multiplying. Uh… so, you’re going along because…”

“Yes.”

“And you’re afraid they’ll-”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be keeping the closest eye I can on them.” Cheerilee said. “But they respect Ivan, and so far he’s unusually capable of keeping them out of trouble. And keeping them safe when trouble’s unavoidable. Though… it is happening often, even for them.”

“…you swear by him?”

“I’m not the only one either.” Cheerilee replied, smiling. “Rarity and Applejack know where their sisters are. Ditzy really trusts him after that one episode in Everfree. Ever since Ivan arrived, the fillies have been in good hooves.”

“…Ah, I see…” hostility gone, the stallion scratched the back of his head awkwardly. After a pause, he offered a hoof to the quiet unicorn.

“I think we got off on the wrong hoof. I’m Playpen. I’ve known Scootaloo for most of her life.” When Ivan didn’t respond, he realized it was probably because of the lack of free hoof to offer.

He nearly took back the hoof to apologize, when the familiar hum of unicorn magic reached his ears.

A green hoof, looking almost like it belonged to a ghost, floated there. Playpen laughed and took it with his own.

“Ivan Hooves.” The green stallion offered back as they shook on it.

--

Ivan found his bags packed a little heavier then normal, since Cheerilee insisted he pack a spare blanket she offered.

Though he said he’d be alright considering the weather would be warm the entire trip, she forced it on him. And Ivan was so unused to concern about his well being that he was entirely unwilling to argue.

Not that it was really such a big deal anyway.

He gave a glance at the orange pegasus at his side, all cheer and smiles at the thought of finally getting to go on a school trip. She confessed earlier that this would be her first.

He found himself looking forward to the trip himself. Big Mac and Cheerilee were pleasant company, he liked being around the crusaders, and he would probably get the chance to know Rarity a little better…

…he wondered if this was what life would be like if he settled.

If he settled though, he might be found.

I wouldn’t be alone though. I don’t want to give this up again.

Dangerous thinking.

Is it worth it?

Cheerilee was looking over the assembled ponies in front of the schoolhouse, probably trying to pick out which ones weren’t present.

She noticed Ivan and Scootaloo approaching, and waved excitedly.

…it might be.

--

“And what are you doing here?” Scootaloo heard when Ivan went to talk to Cheerilee. She didn’t have to turn to see who was coming.

“Same as you Diamond Tiara. I’m going on a school trip.” The filly in question, mirrored by the also present Silver Spoon, grinned maliciously.

“Yeah right. You need parents to go. Where do you live again?” And she was already seeking out the biggest button Scootaloo had, and mashing the moon out of it. She had woken up this morning feeling that this was going to be the best day ever, and here was Diamond Tiara reminding her that it was also going to be three whole days with her close by.

Even with her friends around to dull the blows, the pegasus ground her teeth at the thought of her first trip being soured like this.

She glanced aside at Ivan, whose attention was still off of her. He wouldn’t be rescuing her from these monsters.

So the trolls wouldn’t be getting blasted. Shame.

…what else would Ivan do?

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t going. Don’t you have anything better to do?” Ivan would brush them off. Treat them like anypony else who got up in his business and started making a lot of noise.

Pretty much the same way he treated Pinkie Pie, but this was different since Pinkie had good traits. There was nothing wrong with treating these two like flies.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see what kind of big idea the orphaned blank flank’s got to try and follow us to Whimsyvale?”

Just like Ivan. She wouldn’t give a single buck.

“…moon you’re sad.” And since staying would let them keep talking to her, Scootaloo turned her back on the now sputtering earth ponies, and started the hunt for her friends.

Dinky wasn’t around since she was younger then them, but she still had Applebloom and Sweetie Belle. And maybe that other filly Applebloom was spending time with lately. If her friend liked her, she was probably solid.

She couldn’t wait to tell them how mad she made the two snobs. Who knew Playpen’s half-baked advice of just walking away would work?

--

Diamond Tiara quietly seethed, and Silver Spoon sighed. She liked her friend, but Tiara was hard to deal with in a state like this.

“Impudence!”

And now she was using words like she was some queen. Or something. Silver hoped this phase wouldn’t last long.

“Silver.” Tiara said, shockingly calm. That had lasted a lot shorter then expected. “Do you think Scootaloo was adopted?”

“Probably not.” Silver replied. “I think she would’ve said so right away if she had.”

“…Well the teacher can’t take her. So who is?” Now more curious then anything, the two started scanning the assembled ponies for somepony unfamiliar.

It didn’t take long. With the hat, coat, and cast, he stuck out a bit.

“…Could that be him?” Silver asked, looking him over.

“Celestia, I hope not. Why would a dreamboat like him associate himself with an uncouth blank flank like Scootaloo?” Silver raised an eyebrow and looked again.

The mysterious pony tossed his head, causing his blonde mane to billow quite attractively. A slight peek of icy blue eyes, expressive and intense.

…he was hot.

“What I wouldn’t give to see his cutie mark…”

Silver idly humm’d agreement.

“Should we go say hi?” the grey filly asked. Tiara turned and glared.

“No. We need to scope him out first. Find out what makes him tick. Only a fool would just go and talk to him without knowing anything about him first.”

“Well, we could ask him what we want to know. Maybe he’d show us his cutie mark.”

“Well you can go and ask him if you can look at his butt if you want.” Come to think of it, that did sound kind of… yeah, not doing that.

“You say that like you don’t want to.” Silver countered.

“Silver Spoon, we are proper ladies. In order to look at a stallion’s butt, we need to make him want us to look at his butt. Then we need to take proper and discrete steps to-”

“Alright Tiara, I agree and all, but this conversation’s getting kind of weird…”

“…agreed. Let’s talk about something else. Are those new frames?”

Nothing interesting happened from there on.

--

It turned out that Scootaloo was with the new stallion. And this vexed Tiara to no end, watching the pegasus prance around him in what was probably a accurate rendition of that ‘yes dance’ she had heard so much about.

Worse still he didn’t seem to mind at all. Who did she think she was, doing silly things in public and not getting socially hammered by everypony around her? She would’ve done the job, but Cheerilee didn’t seem to stray far from the newcomer.

Getting in trouble and embarrassing her father just wouldn’t do.

The teacher couldn’t have her eye on the pegasus forever though. And she would pay for ignoring her like some common insect.

Scootaloo was beneath her. Before the trip was through, she would know this.

--

The journey to Whimsyvale was uneventful. Stopping about an hour away from the town, they bedded down for the night, and soon Ivan was listening to how novel his long mane and tail were on him, courtesy of Rarity, under the magical flames he had conjured and maintained above for light.

She spoke quietly though, so as not to wake the crusaders. Big Mac sat near by with a slumbering Applebloom, while Sweetie Belle snoozed with her sister, under the same blanket.

After seeing Sweetie Belle snuggle up to Rarity, Scootaloo had unpacked Ivan’s larger blanket and thrown it over the two of them. Then pressed up against his side, nuzzled him goodnight, and quickly conked out. She hadn’t hesitated, asked, explained, anything.

Ivan, not knowing where this behavior had come from, looked to Cheerilee for help. Sadly though, the school teacher was wearing an expression that said she was plainly consumed by how ‘precious’ it must have looked, and would be no help.

It was about twenty minutes into the rant Rarity started about how more stallions should wear their manes long that he realised he was trying to make sense of a crusader’s behavior. Deciding that trying such a thing so close to his bedtime was something that would lead to nightmares, he gave it up for later.

“Is it a bad thing?” Cheerilee asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Ivan didn’t answer, though the teacher could see his unsure expression. He had taken to lifting his brim whenever she approached, something she tried not to read too much into.

“I’m sorry, the whole thing was so… I just didn’t consider you might be uncomfortable.”

“What’s there to be uncomfortable about?” Rarity asked, smiling down at the sleeping pegasus. “I think it’s simply darling the dear’s so attached to you.”

Ivan hmmm’d, but remained silent.

“Might be he’s never been a big brother before.” Big Mac mused.

Rarity prided herself on being able to recognise body language. She often had to invade the personal space of ponies many a time while fitting them for clothes, magic could only do so much after all. She quickly learned to distinguish which ponies were alright, uncomfortable, or far too interested in her proximity. (and while she couldn’t blame them for being so, she was gorgeous after all, fitting was business and she frowned upon those who couldn’t respect that.)

She noticed right away that Ivan had lifted his hat when Cheerilee had joined them, something akin to his lowering a shield, and her inner gossip demanded she put the screws to the grape coloured mare at the next available opportunity to make sense of what it meant. (dusty jaded wanderer rolls into town and finds himself desperately in love with a mare who slowly begins to heal him, it was just like the book she was in the middle of!)

While she was drawing her own conclusions about the meaning of how he wore his hat though, Big Mac had taken a shot in the dark and hit a nerve of some sort. His jaw set, his brow wrinkled, his eyes by themselves practically gave a seminar. How To Bodily Heave Ivan Hooves Out Of His Comfort Zone 101.

The lesson name was long though, perhaps she could shorten it to-

Now was not the time to be thinking like Pinkie Pie.

“…Ivan, did we dredge up something best left alone?” Rarity tentatively asked, stuffing that screaming curiosity someplace harmless. Ivan was a friend, and while the developing relationship between him and another friend was fair game, something that prompted a reaction like this was not.

The only thing she saw on Cheerilee’s face was naked concern, and that meant she knew exactly what the farm pony had accidentally stumbled upon. Big Mac himself had grown serious and was awaiting an answer, probably to see if he should apologise or not.

Tense seconds passed before Ivan replied.

“…Long time.” He glanced down at the slumbering Scootaloo. “…forgotten.”

“How long?” Rarity asked before she could stop herself.

“Ten years.” Ivan answered. Cheerilee herself wore barely repressed shock, and Rarity found herself more and more interested by the second.

…she was ashamed that such a thing would thrill her so.

“Ivan I apologize. Even if you answered me, I had no business asking.”

“Forgiven.” Said Ivan, as he looked at nothing. “Friends.”

Silence followed again, with nopony sure of how to continue. Ivan eventually spoke again.

“Alive.”

“I had wondered.” Rarity said, sighing relief.

“Accident. My fault.” He said. “Ran away.”

“Ten years you say? Then you would’ve been…”

“Young.” Ivan said, effectively closing that line of questioning.

Again, they paused. And Ivan made no effort to continue.

Big Mac, without warning, lifted a hoof and presented it to Ivan.

“Ya said it yerself. We’re all friends here.”

The stallion studied the offered hoof for a moment, and Rarity could almost see the thoughts swimming in his eyes.

He took a deep breath, and nodded, producing a muted clop when he lightly bumped it with his own hoof.

Ivan didn’t seem to be in a smiling mood, but after the hoof bump, Big Mac was.

“Well, Ah think that’s enough bonding for one night. Some shuteye sounds like just the thing.” He muttered a ‘G’night’ as he tried to wrestle his blanket out of his bags.

“I agree. Sweet dreams everypony.” Rarity followed, laying down her head and closing her eyes just enough to not look like she was still watching. Ivan snuffed the flame, and it became hard to see.

Cheerilee didn’t say anything for a moment, and when she was sure Big Mac wasn’t watching, she got to her hooves and moved to the prone stallion.

She nuzzled him, pressing her face into his neck, and she heard Ivan whisper something Rarity couldn’t make out.

They talked something over for about a minute, before Cheerilee nuzzled him again.

“I care, Ivan.” Rarity heard as she strained her ears.

“I know.”

“I wanted to make sure.” She saw Ivan snake his foreleg around her neck and pull her a little closer.

“Thank you.” She heard Ivan say as if Cheerilee had just told him she was giving him the sun.

“Sweet dreams.” Cheerilee said, returning the embrace, before she got up and moved back to wherever she was sleeping for the night.

To her credit, Rarity didn’t squeal her delight. One thing was for certain though, a certain teacher would be telling her everything she wanted to hear tomorrow.

She fell to rest, endlessly speculating.