//------------------------------// // The // Story: Run for the Roses // by 8686 //------------------------------// Friday By late-afternoon on Friday, Twilight’s map of Ponyville was almost completely covered in red crayon. Fluttershy’s birds had reported back from most cities and settlements they could reach with no good news. And even the most resolute and determined ponies were beginning to show signs of dejection. And then... Pinkie Pie. I was out the front of the inn talking to Twilight when she zoomed up, carrying a stack of paper that appeared to be flyers of some sort. She dropped two-thirds of them on Twilight’s planning table with a whump and gave us each a look that was both frantic and breathless. Still, she had a smile – more of a manic grin really – but any sign of cheer was better than none in the current climate. “Good, you’re here!” she blurted. “I need you to give these out to as many ponies as you can before tonight!” “Pinkie, what’s going on?” asked Twilight, while I studied one of the flyers. It was a colourful affair, printed on pink paper with a crude picture of a smiling Applejack – or at least an orange-coated pony wearing a brown hat – dominating the centre. At the top of the page, in bold, multi-coloured lettering, the header read: Pinkie Pie Presents: Applejack’s Un-surprise Welcome Back to Ponyville Party! I nearly choked on my own breath and I looked up, shocked, at Pinkie Pie. “She’s come back?” “Oh no. Not yet!” Her slightly off-kilter smile remained. “Pinkie, what... is this?” said Twilight, though it was only a rephrasing of her earlier question. It put me a little more at ease – if Twilight, probably the closest thing there is to an expert in Pinkie-Pie Theory, needed help understanding then there was hope for me yet. Pinkie launched into rapid, breathless explanation. “Well I was thinking, if you’re planning a party for somepony, what’s the one way you can absolutely totally guarantee that they’ll know about it?” “Invite them?” I asked. “Make it a surprise party!” Was that an eye-twitch? I shared a worried glance with Twilight. “Pinkie...?” said her friend. “But of course my surprise parties are so surprising that if Applejack’s going to have any hope of ‘accidentally’ hearing about it, it has to be an un-surprise party!” “Pinkie...?” “And when Applejack hears about her amazing party and hears how many ponies are going to be here waiting for her to arrive she’ll have to show up, because Applejack wouldn’t let anypony down! Nuh-uh, and she’d never be late either because she’s super-reliable! Yep, that’s right, totally dependable Applejack who’s probably already heard about all this by now and who’s definitely going to be right on time for her party this evening! So, if you could just help me tell everypony in town that’d be super because the more ponies that come, the more ponies Applejack won’t be disappointing when she totally shows up tonight! Gotta go!” And with that, clutching her remaining stack of papers, she was gone in a blur and a cloud of dust, a few stray flyers wafting softly to the ground. I stood there with my mouth open – an expression that Twilight mirrored, and then horror dawned. Because there had been one word in that explanation that hadn’t sounded right (only one?) and as I replayed it in my head I caught it. Here? Frantically I scanned the flyer again. Oh... no. At the bottom of the sheet of paper were more words: Come celebrate Applejack’s return to Ponyville! Tonight, 7 p.m. Venue: The Run for the Ro– “PINKIE PIE!” I yelled, but she was already out of sight.  I snorted and felt my teeth clench. Then noticed Twilight next to me, using her magic to examine one of the flyers more closely, a strange look of calm consideration to her which I didn’t like one bit. “Twilight... you’re not actually considering–?” “Stranger things have happened.” “You can’t think this is a good idea!” I objected. She looked at me with eyes that were in some way lost, and no trace of happiness to her lips. When she spoke, her voice was but a whisper. “I ran out of good ideas yesterday.” She looked back to the flyer. “Right now? I’ll take a bad idea over no idea.” * * * So we gave out the flyers. Everypony who returned from searching or who just happened by was given one of the pink sheets of paper and an accompanying explanation. As I dished out posters left and right I began to notice that no two were the same. Some had Applejack smiling a cheesy smile, some had her in a pose or twirling her lasso. One even had a speech-bubble with the cheerful caption Yee-Haw! in it. The point was, Pinkie hadn’t used a printing press for these flyers... she’d drawn them. Individually. Hundreds. She returned at six-thirty with supposedly half-an-hour to set up the bar for her party. She told me she was going to decorate the whole place with streamers and balloons and bunting that read Welcome Home Applejack! By the time she’d finished explaining what she was going to do ten minutes had passed. There was no way she was going to have time to put all that up before seven. Of course, I had reckoned without her secret weapon, literally. And when she wheeled it in – a blue gun-carriage with pink wheels – I dove for cover behind the bar an instant before an enormous BOOM reverberated within the inn. I admit, I’d never seen a party-cannon deployed before, but it was quite simply amazing in the most frightening of ways. In the space of a second, half the room had been... decorated! Streamers, bunting, brightly-coloured table-cloths, even food on tables! How? I have no idea, and I decided it was best not thought too hard about. Another boom and the other half of the room was similarly dealt with, and then there were only a few adjustments needed before everything was perfect. Pinkie zipped around setting up various Applejack-themed party... things. There was Pin the Tail on the Applejack, an Applejack Piñata, Applejack-balloons... the room was pretty much orange by the time she was done. “Pinkie... why here?” I half-asked, half-complained as she put the finishing touches to the Applejack bunting hanging from the ceiling, the time now ten-to-seven. “Don’t you normally hold these things at Sugarcube Corner? Or Sweet Apple Acres, where there’s more space?” “Oh, silly!” she chirped. “This is where everypony’s been coming back to all day. What if Applejack only found out about her party from following one of the search-ponies? She’d get all the way here and then have to go somewhere else for her party. That’s not very hospitable!” Another eye-twitch, I think, and her ear flicked too. “I... don’t think that makes sense?” I tried, but I’d come to accept that logic was not my friend, and hadn’t been all day. “Ooh, we’ve got a big turn-out!” she squealed from one of the windows overlooking the front of the pub. Then she was at the front door and pulling it open with her customary grin. “Come in everypony! There’s punch and cake and confetti and of course, plenty of apples!” Ponies by the dozen marched inside, filling every seat and cramming into every corner they could find all with vaguely apprehensive expressions. I was glad to be stood behind the bar. Even with Silver Lining and Waldorf sharing the space with me at least we had some room to move. And at seven o’clock, Pinkie Pie took centre stage near the closed front door, scores of ponies’ attention glued to her, no-one with any idea what to expect. “Fillies and Gentlecolts!” she began with confidence. “Thank you all for coming to celebrate Applejack’s return to Ponyville!” Her pupils were definitely smaller now, and her mane looked a little wilder and more wiry than usual. “I know she’s gonna be super-happy to see how many folks are here for her. So, without further ado, everypony give a warm, Ponyville-style ‘welcome home’ cheer to one of my bestest friends in the whole wide world... APPLEJACK!” she yelled, pulling the front door wide open. To reveal nothing except the street outside, darkening with the slowly encroaching evening. The few ponies who had started to cheer cut their celebration short. Pinkie stood at the door facing out, head searching left and right for a few seconds. Then her head seemed to spin a hundred and eighty degrees. “Uh... don’t worry everypony. Maybe she’s just... running a little late! That’s it. We’ll just try this again.” She closed the door. “Fillies and Gentlecolts... Applejack!” she cried as she flung the door open again, to the same result. “Applejack!” she repeated, staring out into the evening. And then, finally, “Applejack?” I saw her ear flick again. There was a long silence followed by a voice that was almost a squeak. “But she... she’s supposed to be here...” It hadn’t hit me until right then. Until I’d heard that sad, pitiful tone of voice coming from, of all ponies, Pinkie Pie. Until I saw her mane deflate a little and her eyes lose their sparkle. This whole event hadn’t been a plan. What I’d construed up to this point as unfathomable Pinkie-logic had been nothing of the sort. It was just simple desperation. It was Pinkie Pie going off the deep-end and throwing everything she had into one final hurrah, because she needed to believe Applejack was coming back and she had nothing else to try. Pinkie stood at the door for long minutes, just looking out into the dusk and I could have sworn I could hear the joy and hope escaping from her like air from a balloon. A pony coughed politely, and moments later the assembled throng began filing politely past Pinkie Pie, out the door and into the evening while Pinkie just stared sadly. A minute later the bar was empty again, and with Pinkie still making no movement Silver Lining walked over to her and she put a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “Pinkie Pie? Are you okay?” “She was supposed to come,” said Pinkie, her voice hollow as though her mind were elsewhere. “She was supposed to come and see how happy everypony was to see her. There was going to be dancing and games and ice-cream and cake and she was going to have fun with all her bestest friends, right here. It... it was supposed to be a happy ending...” “Oh, Pinkie. There there. Come here, lemme get you a drink,” said Silver, tugging her gently back into the bar. “Sarsaparilla, like usual?” Pinkie sniffed. “I don’t feel very sassy,” she mewled. “That’s okay, just have a sit down. I’ll bring you something,” said Silver Lining, guiding her to a comfy stool at one of the larger, round tables in the bar. She sat Pinkie down and then disappeared through the door towards the kitchen. Pinkie stretched her forelegs straight out on the table in front of her and then let her head drop between them, resting her muzzle on the tabletop. In a room covered with Applejack-themed decorations it was the only thing she could look at that wouldn’t remind her of her friend. I lit my horn and used my magic to start taking the party-stuff down, putting everything neatly on another table near the left wall. Silver returned and carefully placed a glass of warm milk next to Pinkie who didn’t stir, and then started to clear the tables of all the the abandoned cakes and other party food, carrying it all through into the kitchen bit by bit. Three other mares and a dragon entered the bar from the front door. Twilight, Fluttershy, Rarity and Spike had been front-row centre during Pinkie’s failed presentation, and they’d had to exit to allow the ponies behind them to get past. They came back in now and all slowly took seats around Pinkie’s table, their voices mute; their ears folded flat. It struck me how like a wake the scene unfolding before me was. Twilight, sat to Pinkie’s left, put a consoling hoof on her withers. “Pinkie? You okay?” she asked tenderly. “It was a good effort, darling,” Rarity chimed in. “I just... don’t know what went wrong,” said Pinkie. “It was an un-surprise party, so Applejack must have heard about it. Lots of friends expecting her, and Applejack doesn’t ever let ponies down. Add those together and it equals her being here. How... how can she not be?” None of them seemed to have an answer, and so silence fell over the room for several long minutes. The front door opened admitting Rainbow Dash who walked a few steps inside. She looked even worse than when I’d seen her last night. Somehow even more tired, and there were brambles and twigs stuck in her mane, as though she’d lost a fight with a thicket of bracken. She saw her friends sat at the table consoling Pinkie, but didn’t move to join them. “I guess she didn’t show then?” she asked the room at large. I shook my head, as though she’d needed an answer. Rainbow Dash gave a little exhalation of breath – not quite a snort, but not just a sigh either, and then turned for the door. “Rainbow?” called Twilight from the table. “Won’t you come and sit with us?” Rainbow Dash spun back around. “Why? How is sitting there doing nothing gonna get Applejack back? I mean look at you! You all look like you’re giving up!” “Rainbow Dash, that’s not fair,” objected Rarity. “We’ve tried everything, Rainbow Dash,” said Twilight. “Searches, sleuths, sniffer-dogs, solicitations... uh... whatever it is Pinkie Pie does...” “Soirees,” Pinkie put in, her muzzle still in contact with the table. “It’s just I think we might have to start thinking that if we can’t find Applejack... it might be because she doesn’t want to be found,” Twilight finished. “That’s easy for you to say!” yelled Rainbow Dash. “You’re not the one who made her leave!” “Rainbow Dash, you didn’t—” began Fluttershy, but Rainbow cut right through her. “Well I’m not giving up! There’s a few more Quarray nests I haven’t searched yet, so when you all get tired of doing nothing I’ll be out there, trying to find my friend!” She whirled indignantly towards the door, the effect sullied somewhat by the fact that in her sleep-deprived state she nearly tripped over her own hooves. Then she marched out and I was expecting a slam but in actual fact none came and the door remained open. Scraping her stool back, Fluttershy got to her hooves. “Dear, let her go,” said Rarity. “But it’s not her fault!” objected Fluttershy. “She won’t listen, darling. She hasn’t all week.” “I’ve got to try again. I can’t just let her keep going like this. She’s going to hurt herself.” “But what if you can’t get through to her?” asked Twilight. “Then I’ll hit her over the head with something soft,” said Fluttershy. “Well, I mean... I know it sounds drastic but she’s so tired, it shouldn’t take much, and it’ll be for her own good. She needs to rest. I just hope I can convince her.” And with that Fluttershy flitted out through the open front door leaving her remaining four friends silent at the table. From the door to my right, entering from the corridor, emerged one of my more regular customers. A mare with a plum coat and a raspberry coloured mane, unsteady on her hooves, who had likely just made use of the water-closet. “Ooh, everypony’s gone already?” she asked, wobbling over to me at the bar. “Did the party go well? Is it morning now?” I brought a hoof to my forehead and sighed a long sigh. “Berry? You’re drunk. Go home.” Saturday Early on Saturday morning the search ended. The final piece of Ponyville and its surroundings was filled in in red on Twilight’s map and with nowhere else to look there was little else that could be done. Every city, town, village and community had reported in via one of Fluttershy’s birds, and there was no news. The staff who worked every train from Ponyville had been tracked down and asked, and none had seen her. And so life, sadly, began to return to normal. Saturday was a day like most other Saturdays, if a little slower. A heavy mood weighed over Ponyville and I hadn’t see a single smile all morning. Even Silver Lining couldn’t seem to find any cheer anywhere. At lunch I had maybe a dozen customers when the Mayor wandered in, looking weary and resigned. She approached the bar and though we tried to give each other friendly smiles, neither of our hearts were in it. Silver had just finished clearing down a table and on her way back to the kitchen she stopped and offered a greeting. “Good afternoon to you both,” said the Mayor. She was trying to be formal but her tone was flat and there was no sparkle to her eyes. She quickly scanned a notepad she had with her. “I’m here to take your complaint against Princess Twilight, regarding a search she ordered carried out here last Wednesday? If you’ll tell me your grievances I’ll see to it they’re investigated fully and establish if any charges are to be brought against her.” “What?” cried Silver in shock. “Boss... you’re not going to get Twilight in trouble, are you?” she pleaded. I let out an exasperated sigh. Of all the petty things... “WALDORF! YOU’RE WANTED!” I hollered in the general direction of the wall behind me. I know from experience he can hear me in the kitchen if I shout loud enough. I looked from Silver to the Mayor. “It’s not my complaint,” I explained. “Forgive the question, ma’am, but... would you mind telling me how you’ve come to hear of it?” “Twilight came to me herself this morning and informed me. She is understandably upset by the fact that Applejack is still missing but she’s prepared to be held accountable for her actions, and she feels strongly that any objections to her behaviour as princess should be investigated in a transparent, impartial way. As the town’s elected official, that duty falls to me.” The Mayor gave a sigh which unfortunately developed into a yawn she had to stifle. “Forgive me. I wasn’t expecting to be in the office today, but this past week has caused no end of issues... and now this. I admit, I’m not going to relish it. This is the last thing she needs right now, but she was insistent that I come and hear your complaint.” I nodded an understanding nod, and at that moment Waldorf scuttled through the door. “Blazes, Single! What’s all the hubbub about? Afternoon Ms. Mayor. What brings you here?” “The Mayor’s here about our complaint against Twilight,” I said. “The one you said you were going to make on Wednesday?” “Don’t do it, Wally! Please!” begged Silver. Waldorf raised his bushy eyebrows in faux surprise. “Complaint?” he said in a shocked tone. “Oh no, dear me Ms. Mayor I’m afraid there’s been a terrible misunderstanding. I believe the word I used in relation to Ms. Twilight was compliment, not complaint! Isn’t that right, Single? Easy mistake to make though. It was a bit noisy with all the shouting.” “The shouting that you were doing,” I said snidely. “You were pretty indignant about it at the time...” “Because I thought you were going to be indignant about it! I thought we were being indignant together. Misjudged that one.” “And your salads that you were so concerned would go to waste?” I asked. “Oh, Single, I thought you knew by now. Fine, I’ll let you in on a secret: there are always salads ready to go to waste whenever I get messed around. Whether or not they actually exist in any form other than conceptual is a matter for the philosophers, and if they do, well, I put them in the fridge! Criminy, it’s salad! It keeps!” “As long as these conceptual salads aren’t being made with conceptual ingredients that I’m actually paying for,” I said, though I found a smirk on my lips. “All part of the mystical, unknowable art of food preparation I’m afraid,” he quipped. “But if you want, I’ll reimburse you with conceptual bits.” “So... I’m confused. Is there a complaint against Twilight or not?” asked the Mayor, now thoroughly befuddled by our banter. “Absolutely not!” replied Waldorf. “Not even a conceptual one. In fact... if you see her again, Ms. Mayor, do express my apologies for raising my voice to her. I... hadn’t understood how serious the situation was.” The Mayor flipped her notepad closed. “Very well,” she said with a small but tired smile. “Good! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I may or may not have eight salads that are absolutely going to go to waste unless I put them in the fridge.” He winked at me and with that he waddled off through the door back to the kitchen. I couldn’t stop a grin. Waldorf might have a hot temper at times, but his heart’s always been in the right place. I looked back to the Mayor. “Can I get you anything, ma’am, since you’re here?” She seemed to wrestle with her thoughts before coming to a decision. “A gin and tonic, if you please? It is supposed to be my day off after all.” * * * Saturday evening is my busiest time of the week. Sunday and Wednesday lunchtimes might beat it marginally in terms of volume of customers, but they’re normally here for food which Waldorf and Silver take care of whereas on Saturdays they’re usually here for drink which means I do most of the running around. The bar was fairly full with orders coming thick and fast, even if the ponies making them weren’t exactly full of cheer. The mood continued to be somber as it had been all day and I noticed more than a couple of ponies were drinking to forget their worries. Rainbow Dash had been right. It was as if the entire town had just given up. Ah. Speak of the devil. Rainbow Dash wandered into the bar, head low, hooves almost dragging and threatening to scuff grooves into my floorboards. She reached a bar-stool and hauled herself onto it, and when she’d finally settled herself she practically went limp, almost falling half-over the bar. “Hey... bar-guy? Can I have a drink, please?” “You gonna pay for it?” I asked. “You know... know I’m good for it,” she muttered. “Rainbow Dash, you’re really not.” “I’ve got bits,” she said wearily, patting herself down, checking beneath her wings. “I just... uh, didn’t bring ‘em, apparently...” she trailed off, her eyelids almost falling closed. I called out to Silver, who was dutifully walking to the bar with two trays full of used glasses and mugs, one balanced on each wing. It still looks impressive no matter how many times I see it. “Silver? Can you mind the bar for a minute?” “Sure!” she said, putting the trays down and ducking through the hatch to take my place. I headed for the kitchen and returned a minute later with a cup and saucer, and a full cafetiere which I placed in front of Rainbow Dash. “What’s... that?” she asked. “Coffee.” “That’s not what I wanted.” “Too bad you didn’t say,” I countered with a tiny smirk. “It’s all fancy and everything...” “Just drink it,” I said, levitating the cafetiere over the cup and pouring the steaming, strong-smelling coffee in. The sweet scent seemed to have some effect as it hit her. Her ears pricked, her eyes focused and she managed to perk up, if only a little. She carefully took the cup and sipped from it, looking a little less pale already. “Are you okay?” I asked. “No.” She looked from her coffee to me. “I guess she still hasn’t been back here yet?” I shook my head. “If she came back I don’t think she’d come straight here, Dash. You’d probably know about it before me.” “Maybe. I’ve been pretty far from town the whole day, looking. Just had to check. That’s what the tavern is for, right? The place you come to to get information or pick up side-quests.” “Side-what?” “Nevermind.” She took another, longer sip of coffee, and it seemed to meet with her approval. “When was the last time you slept?” I asked. My question provoked a yawn from the pegasus, and she looked annoyed with herself for giving in to her fatigue even slightly. Then her face relaxed. “I got a couple of hours last night,” she said. “Before that? A while.” “Fluttershy talk some sense into you?” “No. She tried. Then she clobbered me over the head with a pillow. When that didn’t work she attacked me with a warm blanket and some comfy pyjamas. It was... pretty surreal. I figured the only way to make it stop was to take the hint. I got maybe two, three hours, then I slipped away while she was sleeping.” She sighed a long, drawn out sigh. “I’m still tired, I know I am. But I can’t just stop looking for her. I can’t.” “Surely you’re not going back out looking tonight?” I asked, astonished. She nodded. “Got a full moon, gotta make the most of it.” Beside me, Silver let out a little worried gasp. “Rainbow... is there anything I can say to talk you out of it?” I asked. “You can take a room upstairs right now if you want. There’s no-one else staying here this week.” “No. But... thanks. For the other day, too,” she said, glancing at Silver with a tired smile. She drained the last of her coffee and hopped down from her stool, heading for the door but at least not looking like she was going to collapse any minute. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “I should have got her hot cocoa instead of coffee,” I lamented to Silver as the door shut behind Rainbow Dash. “Might just have sent her to sleep.” “Is she... gonna be okay?” asked Silver. “I think she’ll keep looking for Applejack until she passes out,” I said honestly. “I just hope she isn’t two hundred feet in the air when it happens.” I caught the look of horror on Silver’s face and she almost started for the door. “It’s okay,” I said. “I think she’s a good enough flier not to let that happen.” “But if there’s a chance it could, she needs a wing-pony!” “Silver, I don’t think there’s anything we can do for her that her best friends haven’t already tried,” I said with a sad head-shake. “Right now she’s running on grief and guilt, and they’re not emotions that easily give up their hold over you.” “But... you’re not saying she’s gonna be like this forever are you?” “Not forever, but right now her guilt won’t let her stop until either Applejack’s found, or we find out what happened to her. She needs to know and she can’t rest until she does.” “But that could take—!” she started and cut herself off as her eyes widened. Weeks? Months? Years? I nodded sadly. “Yes. It could.” As it happened though, it didn't.