//------------------------------//
// The Grandest Of Stands 
// Story: The Crusader King 
// by naturalbornderpy 
//------------------------------//

The sun was bright and burning and centered squarely above the town. Cloud cover was non-existent and any breeze that day was weak at best. Sombra wiped away a bead of sweat from his forehead and shielded his eyes with a leg. If Celestia had wanted to rule over Equestria with an iron hoof, all she’d need to do is up the price on water and bring the sun closer to the ground. But of course, Celestia wasn’t as evil as him.
                
“This will work,” Sombra said, looking first up the street one way and then the other.
                
It had taken close to an hour to hammer together the CMC’s ramshackle lemonade stand. While he hammered away, the other three gathered together the necessary ingredients for the day: sugar, lemons, cups, straws. A former tyrant King asking with his best manners for a cup of sugar from one of the Elements might come off as a little odd.
                
Atop the stand, Apple Bloom finished stirring the first batch of lemonade, slices of lemons and chunks of ice swirling around the large punch bowl. She gave him a glass. “Here you go, Sombra. Looks like you did a mighty fine job with the stand.”
                
He gave the stand a once-over. After retrieving it from the Apple family barn, he’d instantly grimaced from the sight. No two pieces of wood were the same size or color, nor did they properly meet. Boards slumped and most were in desperate need of polish and a good sanding. Most disgusting of all, the letters on the front: “CMC’S LEMONADE STAND,” complete with a couple backwards letters and each one done in a different color. Perhaps the three fillies had been going for something cute, possibly to help customers ignore their shoddily-made lemony beverage. The only problem? Sombra didn’t do “cute.”
                
Sombra did professional.
                	
He held the glass of icy liquid in front of his face. “Why are these glasses so big?”
                
Apple Bloom tilted her head. “What do you mean? These are always the glasses we use—the ones I borrow from my kitchen.”
                
Sombra sniffed the top. “Smaller glasses would have been better. The customer receives less liquid and is therefore more prone to return and have another glass. We save on lemonade with each serving using the smaller glasses, therefore reaping the benefits. Alas, these will have to do.”
                
He took a dainty sip and sloshed it around his mouth before gulping. “Not bad. Not too tart or too sour. But add more sugar.”
                
Apple Bloom frowned. “But that’s the Apple family recipe! Everyone likes our lemonade.”
                
Sombra set the glass down and raised a brow. “A family that revolves around apples has a lemonade recipe?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s not go down that path. I never said it was bad, only that extra sugar couldn’t hurt. Your town’s populace is dumb, or perhaps dumber than regular dumb, meaning if something is sweet and refreshing, they will return for more without hesitation.”
                
Scootaloo stood by Apple Bloom. “That doesn’t sound all that healthy.”
                
Sombra chuckled. “I have yet to see a single overweight pony in this town. I’m starting to believe it’s impossible to get fat here. More sugar won’t hurt, I promise. You’re really going to need to start trusting me, children.”
                
Both of them hesitated, eyes going from the punchbowl back to Sombra.
                
Sombra lowered to them and grinned wide, fangs glimmering in the burning sun.
                
“Do I seem like the type to lie?”
 

***


 

Sombra couldn’t quite understand it. Their stand had been open for business for close to an hour and all they’d sold had been a glass apiece to Twilight, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash. When Sombra saw them coming up the street, he dived headfirst into a nearby bush and watched them from there. While hiding, his anger at each of them made his body thrum like an electric current. For a moment, he became worried his rage would become too much and he’d jump out to attack, or else that he’d burst into flames and everyone would start to wonder why that bush had spontaneously caught on fire.
                
Sombra’s face ached from scowling at them so much.
                
When the Elements went on their way, Sombra returned to his post next to the others, as little good as it did. He tried to drum up some business.
                
“Hey, you! Peon! Buy some of this yellow liquid! It is hot outside and now you want it!”
                
The stallion trotting by came to a stop and stared at Sombra uneasily. He took a few steps towards the stand. “Aren’t you a little bit old to be selling lemonade?”
                
Sombra lifted his chin. “I have no idea what you mean. I’m barely a day over five hundred and twelve.”
                
Sweetie Belle leaned over to the stallion. “He’s just helping us. He’s… Scootaloo’s long lost father.”
                
Sombra and Scootaloo turned to her, glaring.

Sweetie Belle shrugged. “What? I dunno what I was supposed to say. Uncle? Complete stranger?”

The stallion furrowed his brows, looking from Sombra to Scootaloo. “You should be happy you got your looks from your mother, then. Maybe I’ll come back later.”

The stallion left as Sombra stared daggers at him, one of his sharp fangs poking his lower lip. “This isn’t working. We need to raise the stakes. We need ponies to want our product. We need to force them to want it.”

Apple Bloom rested her head on a hoof. “And how do we do that?”

“Leave that to me.”

Sombra turned and strolled away from them, a bit of wind catching his cape before it fell back into place. In that brief moment, Apple Bloom noticed a few heavily faded scars along both sides of his lower back and plot. Ignoring them, she soon returned to chopping lemons and enjoying the day.
 

***


 

Since Sombra had no means of increasing the sun’s wrath or destroying every icebox in town, he did the next best thing. The town’s water pump sat on the other side of town and he found it easily. With next to no one around, he whistled tunelessly and stepped over the wide metal pipe that dispersed the water from the basin to every home in Ponyville. While stepping over it, he gave it a mighty kick, wincing as the pain traveled from his hoof all the way to his brain.
                
The pipe stayed locked where it was. So he kicked again. Then another time just to be sure.
                
“Hmm.”
                
Sombra scratched his chin.
                
“Oh.”
                
The shutoff valve. He’d almost missed it entirely. Two hard spins later, Sombra could hear the rushing water from the pipe come to an immediate halt. He smirked.
                
“No more water for you, Ponyville.”
 

***


 

With Sombra’s dark and foreboding figure gone, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle found a sharp increase in business. While he was gone, close to two dozen stallions and mares came by to give them a bit and take a glass, most complimenting the Crusader’s drink. A few even said how sweet it tasted, compared to the watered-down lemonade sold from those two “creeps” also selling in another part of town.
                
Apple Bloom added the latest hooful of bits and coins to their Power Ponies lunch box stashed at the bottom of the stand and found a small mound already growing. She smiled. The bits were nice, but Apple Bloom enjoyed running a business more. It made her feel more adult. Something she wished the rest of her family would do more often.
                
“And just what do you three think you’re doing?”
                
Just like that, Apple Bloom’s smile faded away.
                
She looked up to find Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon in front of their stand, an overwhelming look of annoyance to both of them.
                
Apple Bloom sighed. “It’s a lemonade stand. It says so on the front.”
                
Diamond Tiara came up to them. “Oh, I know what it is. I’m just curious why you’re even bothering. I don’t think a single pony in Ponyville likes your lemonade at all.”
                
Apple Bloom put her hooves on top of the stand. “That’s not true!”
                
“It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not—that’s just what ponies have been saying. Plus, how do you expect to sell to anyone after we set up only a block away?” She flipped her mane out of her eyes. “My father imported lemons from the best orchard around, and I had my servant gather the most expensive types of sugar he could find and create the most perfect lemonade.”
                
Scootaloo whispered to Apple Bloom. “By the sounds of it, I think she’s going to actually lose money selling lemonade.”
                
Sweetie Belle stood by Apple Bloom and tightened her jaw. “Why are you even selling lemonade? Your father’s rich! You don’t need any money.”
                
Diamond Tiara giggled. “I know that. But when I saw how nice it was out today, I just knew you three blank flanks would be running this crappy stand again.” She took a moment to stare at the stand’s lettering. “Although I will say it looks better than before. Still, when ponies try our lemonade, they won’t even give your stand a second look.”
                
Sweetie Belle banged a hoof against the boards. “I’ll have you know we’ve already sold a ton of lemonade, and ponies told us they loved it! We’ll show you! We’ll sell more lemonade by the end of the day than both of you!”
                
Diamond Tiara smiled. “Big words. If only your voice matched them.” She threw a couple bits onto the stand. “Here, enough for two glasses. Friendly competition and all that.”
                
Sweetie Belle stared at the bits for a while; Apple Bloom did the same.
                
“Am I not a paying customer?” asked Diamond Tiara snidely.
                
Begrudgingly, Apple Bloom filled two glasses and slid them over, no ice or straw included.
                
Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon both took their glasses and held it close to their mouths, before dumping the contents onto the street. They placed the empty glasses back on the stand.
                
“I wouldn’t dare ruin my taste buds with lemonade made by blank flanks. Let’s go, Silver Spoon.”
                
Diamond Tiara trotted away, Silver Spoon trailing behind. Before she got too far, Silver Spoon turned her head and mouthed the words “I’m sorry,” before galloping to catch up.
                
As Scootaloo began to clean the empty glasses, Sweetie Belle sat on the ground and crossed her legs over her chest, lowering her head. She sniffled and her eyes began to water. “It’s just not fair. They have the best of everything, and the one thing we do to make a few bits, they just have to do too. And they don’t even need the money.”
                
Apple Bloom wrapped a leg around her. “Oh, just ignore them. Heck, they might not even have a stand, and even if they do, I can’t imagine them using it for long. Not on a hot day like today.” She brought out the coin-filled lunch box and shook it noisily. “Hear how many bits we have already, Sweetie Belle? Even if this is all we make today, we still did good.”
                
Sweetie Belle nodded, without a lot of conviction. “I guess.” She sighed. “But I wonder where Sombra went.”
 

***


 

It hadn’t taken long for Sombra to track them down. All he had to do was follow the trail of unfinished lemonade cans and sing-song melodies lazily floating in the air—something to do with an assault on the senses that leaves one reeling for more of the brothers’ tasty concoction. It was catchy, Sombra had to say, but also horribly annoying. Somehow, the pair of salesponies had managed to rhyme “lemonade” with over a hundred different words in a matter of seconds. When Sombra tried to rhyme “lemonade” himself, all that came to mind was “slave trade.”
                
“You two,” Sombra greeted, stopping before their traveling wagon converted into a makeshift stand, “stop your infectious tunes at once.”
                
“A customer!” one of them cried.
                
“Right you are! A customer!” cried the other, striking the exact same pose as his brother.
                
Sombra ran a rough hoof along his face. Sweetie Belle was loud—piercingly loud. These two seemed set on out-shouting even the likes of her.
                
“Welcome tall, dark, and thirsty to the Flim and Flam Brother’s Lemonade Escapade of Yesterday!” He wrapped a leg around his brother—the one without the mustache. “This here is Flim and I am Flam. How many cans of delicious lemonade can we put you down for?”
                
Sombra glanced from the smiling pair to a mare a few yards away. He watched her pop open her can and take a sip, only to stick out her tongue and throw it in the trash.
                
Sombra turned back to them. “None, I’m afraid. And why is it called the ‘Escapade of Yesterday’? Today is today, not yesterday.”
                
Flam leaned in close—too close. “Because with just one sip of our miraculous ice-cold liquid libation, you’ll start wondering how you were ever thirsty to begin with—including yesterday! Right, Flim?”
                
“Right, Flam!” the other one answered.
                
Sombra rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Well, obviously he was going to agree with you.”
                
Flam held out a can to Sombra. “Care for a sample? Might add a bit of color to your otherwise dour appearance.”
                
Sombra lifted a leg to glance at his coat. “No. I’ve worked quite hard to rid myself of bright hues some time ago. I’ll stick with this for now.” He placed both forelegs on their stand. “But let’s talk about you two now. I want you gone. Away from here. No more terrible lemonade giving lemonade a bad name.”
                
Flim chuckled. “You must be pulling on one of our four legs, good sir. Our lemonade is the best in the land!”
                
“Is that why I counted over thirty-four half-finished cans of it on the ground while I walked over here?”
                
Flim chuckled again, a little weaker. “Oh, that’s only because it quenches thirst so well, a full can is much too much for the average pony!”
                
Sombra raised a brow. “What about the piles of vomit next to the cans?”
                
Sweat trickled down Flim’s cheek. “Ponies allergic to lemons, perhaps?”
                
Flam came to stand before his brother. “If you’re not planning on buying our wonderful product, sir, you can depart from here. We have no plans of leaving. We’ve absolutely done nothing wrong. Good day!”
                
Sombra grinned. “So you will not move? Is that what you are saying?”
                
Flam crossed his legs. “I said ‘good day,’ sir!”
                
Sombra let out an thick tendril of purple smoke from each eye, drifting close to his mane. He added a glow behind both eyes, highlighting his red and green hypnotic stare.
                
Flam gulped dryly. “What do you think you are doing?”
                
“Showing you the error of your ways,” Sombra told him calmly, “using fear.”
                
Flam held up a hoof. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
                
Flim stepped in front of him. “My brother told you to leave, so you’d better—”
                
Once he caught sight of Sombra’s glare, Flim cut his sentence short as his eyes darkened and went purple. His mouth hung limp and his shoulders slumped.
                
Sombra asked him, “What is it you fear, pray tell? And speak truthfully.”
                
Flim’s eyes were locked tight on his. “That our parents will find out what we’ve been doing. That they’d be ashamed of us.” His chin quivered. “I didn’t want to do all this stuff! It’s all Flam! Every time he comes up with something, he tells me it’ll be different, but all we’re doing is selling cheap stuff that we pretend is great! I don’t wanna be known as a crook, but he’s my brother and when he says he needs my help, I feel I have to.” He sniffled. “And I hate the songs! We rehearse all night long and there’s so many words and some of them don’t even rhyme and we sing them like forty times a day! You know how embarrassing it is to sing and dance for one pony that doesn’t even buy some—”
                
Flam jammed a hoof into his brother’s mouth. “What do you think you’re doing, Flim? What’s gotten into you?” He turned to Sombra. “What did you do to him?”
                
Sombra glared at Flam. “This.”
                
The effect was instantaneous, as Flam’s eyes clouded over with a deep purple mass. Sombra expected more of the same drivel that his brother unburdened, but got something completely different in return.
                
Flam hitched in a breath. “I’m afraid Flim’s going to try and steal my mustache soon. Like at night, while I’m asleep, he’ll take a razor and chop it off and pretend to be me around town. We’re almost identical, so he could get away with it too! And it’s all because he’s jealous of it. He’s never been able to grow a mustache, so now he wants mine!” Tears spilled down his cheeks. “I can’t let that happen! Don’t you understand? This mustache is all I’ve got! Without it, who am I? I’ll tell you what. I’m Flim! But I can’t be Flim, because I’m Flam! Flam’s the one with the mustache, remember? That’s all ponies know about me!” He rubbed two hooves into his eyes, blubbering loudly. “What have I become?”
                
“My sweetest friend, you’ve become something you hate, and it’s beautiful to watch.” Sombra’s smile widened as he placed a hoof on his shoulder. “But I have lemonade to sell. And both you and your brother have major life decisions to discuss.”
                
Sombra lit up his horn. Before leaving, he kicked over their wagon and dropped the nearby heaviest tree branch on it. Nicely flattened, watery lemonade cascaded onto the ground from the wreckage. Neither Flim nor Flam seemed to notice or care, as they kept on crying and consoling one another. Flam wouldn’t remove his hoof from overtop his mustache.
                
Sombra rubbed his hooves together.
                
“Now, I’ve only one thing left to do.”
 

***


 

Sombra visibly brightened as he returned to the CMC’s stand. Over his cape he had on a saddlebag loaded with small glass objects, gently tinkling next to each other.
                
He eyed the half-empty punchbowl and gave the lunchbox a shake. He ruffled each of their manes and set down his pack. “You’ve all done well in my absence. Seems we are making progress. But I’m sure very soon, we’ll have more business than all four of us can handle.”
                
Scootaloo came up to him. “What did you do, Sombra? Tell ponies about our stand?”
                
Sombra chewed on his tongue. “Not… exactly. But I can’t give away all of my dastardly secrets, now can I?”
                
Scootaloo stared up at him. “How many secrets do you have, exactly?”
                
“More than I’d like.”
                
Sombra grabbed a thin green bottle from his pack and emptied its contents into the punch bowl. When that bottle ran dry, he grabbed the next one and did the same. Scootaloo looked inside his pack and found another ten or so.
                
Apple Bloom popped the top off one and smelled it, gagging instantly. “That smells awful! Why would you put that in our lemonade?”
                
Sombra didn’t stop pouring. “You know before when I said we had to add more sugar?”
                
“Yeah.”
                
“Well, this is sort of the same principle. More of this stuff—” he held up a bottle and took a tiny sip “—can only make our product better. Also, I think selling lemonade to children has run its course. We need to diversify our demographic and target adults. They’re the ones with more bits, so we can charge more for our drink.”
                
Scootaloo sniffed the same bottle Apple Bloom had. “Where’d you even get this stuff?”
                
Sombra kept pouring. “Around town. There was a nearby restaurant I tele… I went inside and took from. I’m sure they won’t be missed.”
                
Once Sombra had finished off the last bottle and added more sugar and lemon juice to the mix, he gave the stirring spoon to Sweetie Belle.
                
“Since you’ve been so quiet since I’ve come back, I’ll get you to stir.”
                
Sluggishly, Sweetie Belle climbed atop the counter and held the spoon between two hooves. Without a word, she dropped it into the bowl and lightly swirled it around.
                
Sombra furrowed his brows. “What’s wrong, Sweetie Belle? I thought you three enjoyed selling lemonade.”
                
Sweetie Belle sighed. “We do, it’s just that…” she frowned, and her eyes shimmered. “Never mind. It’s okay now.”
                
Sombra took the spoon from her and angled her head to look at him. “What happened? Why do you look so sad?”
                
“I’d rather not talk about it,” she answered softly.
                
Sombra looked at Apple Bloom. “What happened here? Tell me now.”
                
“It’s not a big deal, really. Just two bullies from our class came by and told us how much our lemonade stunk. Then they said they’d set up their own stand that would blow ours out of the water.”
                
Sombra clicked his sharp teeth together. “What are their names?”
                
“Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon,” Scootaloo told him. “Although I think Silver Spoon just follows Diamond Tiara around because she tells her to. They call us ‘blank flanks,’ even though they’ve only had theirs for a year or so.”
                
“Blank flanks?” Sombra spat, his eyelids twitching. Tendrils of purple smoke billowed out from both eyes. “They ridicule you three simply because you don’t have cutie marks? I’ll kill them! I’ll peel off their skin and make them eat it! Who has a potato peeler I can borrow?”
                
Scootaloo took a step back. “Why are your eyes like that?”
                
Sweetie Belle had begun stirring the lemonade again, but dropped the spoon when Sombra quickly wrapped her up with both legs, pinning her to his chest.
                
He whispered to her, “I will find those that made you cry and I will make them pay. That, I promise you, Nocturne.”
                
Sweetie Belle managed to look up at him. “My name’s Sweetie Belle, remember? Or it is still Slaughter Belle? I can’t remember now.”
                
Sombra ran a hoof through her mane and tried for a shaky smile. “Yes, of course. Sweetie Belle. My mistake. How silly of me. Stay here and try to forget what they said, all right? They are foolish and don’t yet understand just how amazing not having a cutie mark can be. They already know where their talents lie, but you three… your talents could be anything you could possibly imagine… anything you could dream.”
                
Sweetie Belle was about to say more, but Sombra disappeared in a puff of black smoke, leaving her to tumble forward and land in the dirt by their stand. She waved a leg around to get rid of the smoke.
                
Scootaloo leaned over the edge of the stand. “I thought he said he didn’t have his magic anymore; that it was gone?”
                
Apple Bloom stood next to her. “He did say that. You reckon he’s been lying to us the whole time?”
                
Scootaloo thought for a moment. “Either way, what do you think he’s gonna to Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon? He wouldn’t… I don’t know, hurt them, would he?”
                
“I know they deserve something for the way they act, but I don’t wanna see them get hurt,” Apple Bloom said. “I mean, Sombra hasn’t hurt any of us, right? I don’t think he’d hurt fillies.”
                
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom looked at each other uneasily.
                
Sweetie Belle got to her hooves and brushed away the dirt from her sides. “I’ll go check it out. You two stay here and see if whatever Sombra added to the lemonade really works.”
                
Apple Bloom looked concerned. “You sure about that, Sweetie Belle? Sombra looked a lot scarier than usual this time.”
                
“If things get bad, I could always get my sister. Rarity always knows what to do. Older sisters always know what they’re doing.”
 

***


 

Rarity snored gracefully on the spread out picnic blanket, a pair of shades pulled over her eyes and an unread magazine by her head. She and Pinkie Pie had been scheduled to keep an eye on the CMCs as they spent time with Sombra that day. It also happened to be one of the hottest days of the year, so Rarity had decided to take the time to make the most out of the beautiful weather.
                
“Sombra’s back!” Pinkie Pie chirped next to her, sitting on the grass in the small clearing across the street from Apple Bloom’s lemonade stand. Pinkie Pie held a pair of oversized binoculars to her eyes. “And now he’s gone! And now Sweetie Belle’s gone too!”
                
“That’s nice, dear,” Rarity replied, repositioning herself to better catch the sun’s rays.
                
“He ran off in a big puff of smoke, like, like, foom! Or, no, like a magician! Oooh, oooh, do you think he’d ever put on a magic show!? That would be so much fun!” Pinkie Pie turned to her. “Hey, Rarity? D’ya think he got his dark, mysteriooous supervillain powers back, maybe?”
                
“That’s nice,” Rarity repeated absently.
                
As a stumbling mare with a grapevine cutie mark stepped up to the lemonade stand for the fourth time in just as many minutes, Pinkie Pie got herself an idea.
                
“You think I should get us some lemonade while we’re staking out, Rarity?”
                
“That sounds nice.”
                
“I know nothing goes better than watching washed up villains and lemonade.”
                
“Very true. Say hi to Sweetie Belle for me.”
                
“If she comes back, you mean.”
                
Rarity started to snore again.