The Storm's Challenge

by OneLonelyPickle

10 - The Arrival

Chapter 10

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The Arrival

At the Royal Courtyard, Applejack and Rarity were staring each other down. On either side of them was a huge wagon, one stacked high with luggage and clothing, the other with apple products.

“So, Applejack,” Rarity said with an amused smile, “It looks like you found somepony to recommend your apples. He’s a real” — Rarity looked behind Applejack to watch Boozebeard guzzle down a huge mug of cider, onlookers either cheering or looking unsure of the situation — “draw.” Every so often a pony would deposit some bits in a bucket and grab an apple product. Rarity giggled smugly.

“Yeah, ah did. And it looks like you found yourself another Miss Priss to blabber on about yer dresses.” Applejack looked behind Rarity and watched VeeVee use her magic stave to float dresses around the crowd that gathered around. Sweetie Belle was off to one side, writing down orders from excited ponies. Applejack laughed.

“Might wanna git back there and make sure Sweetie Belle isn’t giving away all your dresses for free, Rarity.” Rarity flinched in realization and starting galloping back. She shouted back at Applejack.

“And you better keep an eye on all the cider your ‘little’ pal is drinking, Applejack!”

Boozebeard was drinking straight from a barrel as several stallions and colts edged him on.

“Drink, drink, drink!”

Applejack nervously smiled and galloped back to her wagon.

A pink pony squeezed through the thick swarm of eventgoers, a purple-scaled dragon tied to her back. Pinkie noticed her friends situated along the very edge of the courtyard, overlooking the rest of Canterlot.

“OOO, OOO, APPLEJACK!” the party pony proclaimed, loud enough that ponies close by had to cover their ears. Spike shifted excitedly.

“Oh thank Celestia!”

After exchanging pleasantries, which took longer than usual given how busy Applejack was, Spike was finally being freed from his prison atop Pinkie.

“Shoot, Spike,” Applejack complained as she worked away at the complicated knots, “Couldn’t you guys have played a game that didn’t require a Triple Helix Squirrel Tie?”

Spike fumed. “Game? Game! You think I wanted to be tied to Pinkie’s back? I was forced!” Spike moved his claws every which way as he explained with Pinkie levels of energy. “It was this Bushwhacker guy, they made him do it so I wouldn’t keep working at the library! I said, 'No, Twilight wouldn’t like that,' but they insisted, so—”

Spike stopped. He slumped over with a grumpy expression. Applejack and Pinkie had already begun talking about something else.

“Glad to see yer feeling better today, Pinkie,” Applejack said as she worked the cash register of her little operation, pouring in one bucket of bits and sorting out the pieces. The stream of customers was endless, which was why Applejack was glad she had brought a ton of apple products. She addressed her customers in a loud, professional tone.

“Don’t forget to root for Boozebeard in the races! One of the favorites to win and Sweet Apple Acres’s choice for winner!”

The crowd of customers cheered as Applejack turned her attention back to the party pony. Pinkie chimed up to her friend. “I slept on it and decided that it’s like a big mystery game!” She pulled a deerstalker hat and corn cob pipe out of nowhere and donned her investigator’s guise once more. “I’ll get to the bottom of this, or my name isn’t Pinkamena Sherclop Pie!”

Spike walked up and motioned at Pinkie to Applejack, shaking his head. Applejack chuckled.

“Ah still think yer off your rocker with this whole Maelstrom mumbo jumbo, but you’ll see when yer tail doesn’t shake that it was all a misunderstanding.”

“Hopefully, dear Applejack.” Pinkie took a puff of her pipe and bubbles came out of the end. “Hopefully…”

A loud burp cut through the air. Pinkie grimaced and turned to the source of the noise, being the huge, slovenly stallion she had spotted earlier named Boozebeard. "That's a bit... rude," Pinkie said. "Who is he, anyway, Applejack?"

Applejack managed a reply after dealing with a swath of customers. "He's flying in the races, didn't ya hear what Ah said earlier? Rainbow turned me down for an endorsement deal so Ah chose Boozebeard instead. He ain't so bad, just likes his cider a tad more than most, is all."

Pinkie stared wide-eyed at the behemoth stallion as he worked his way through yet another barrel of cider. "A lot of tads more, I'd say!"

Ponies invaded from all sides. Boozebeard as a draw was a huge success, even though all he did was drink cider and occasionally shoot up into the sky with a Rocket Jump. Applejack shot Pinkie a glance and motioned with her head towards all the customers.

“Why don’t you go see how Rarity’s doing, Pinkie? Ah’m a might busy at the moment, wouldn’t be good company, Ah’m afraid.”

"Ooo, Spike and I can give you a hoof — err, or claw!" Pinkie bounced up and down and Spike smiled with a nod.

Applejack closed her eyes and shook her head. "Ah appreciate the offer, but this here's a competition between Rarity and me. Ah don't want any of our other friends chipping in." She lightened her mood and smiled at her friends. "Go. It's fine!" With that Applejack had to turn her full attention to the growing mass of customers who were clamoring for more apples.

Pinkie shrugged. "Alright, AJ! If that's what you want!" She started sniffing the ground like a blood hound as she moved over to where Rarity was, some paces away. Spike brought his arms up and shook his head.

“Honestly, I really don’t get that pony sometimes.”

At Rarity's make-shift shop, finely-dressed ponies were perusing the dresses and accessories on display. One mare had her eyes glued to a scarf crafted out of shiny green silk. A stallion “ooed” and “awed” at a pitch-black suit ensemble that could easily outshine anything at the Grand Galloping Gala. Everything was being kept afloat by the magic of VeeVee, who was beside herself with glee.

“Vhat pleasure!” she cooed, seeing everypony enthralled with the wares. Rarity stood at her side, a blush on her cheeks, as the compliments continued to roll in. She made sure to have an eye on her sister as often as possible, and was within earshot, while Sweetie Belle took orders. Sweetie Belle looked up at her sister and grinned wide. Rarity nodded with approval.

Awkwardly present at the make-shift shop were stallions young and old. They all stared at VeeVee, her amber eyes aglow. Simply being within hoof’s reach was enough to keep them all placated yet eager for more. If any stepped out of line, the imposing shadow of Arnold looming over, like a massive hulk of black muscle, reminded them not to get too touchy.

“Ahh, Pinkie… Pie?” Rarity spotted her friend sniffing her way over to her. Rarity grimaced and looked to either side of her.

“Oh, Rarity!” Pinkie seemed to break out of a trance and started acting (relatively) normal again, trotting over to the fashionista. Spike pirouetted right in front of Rarity and bowed.

“The lady Rarity, exquisite as always!”

A pompous stallion, also bowed over, grumbled.

“You wouldn’t be making fun of me, would you?”

Spike stood up and brushed himself off.

“Who, me? No, no, not at all!” The stallion stood up as well and nodded to Rarity with a smile. He turned towards Spike and then threw his head up with a huff as he walked away. Rarity giggled as she beheld a bright red Spike. Pinkie struggled to keep still as the friends chatted.

“Quite the entrance, you two.” Rarity beamed. “I’m glad you could make it! Isn’t this just magical?” She motioned to all of the fashion-minded ponies around and sighed happily. “My adoring fans! Well, and Ms. VeeVee’s adoring fans!” She nudged her newest friend, who turned around.

“Pinkie, Spike, this is Ms. VeeVee, one of the ponies competing in the Storm’s Challenge. She’s helping me promote my wares in exchange for my own promotion of her as a top contender in the races. Ms. VeeVee, these are my friends, Pinkie Pie and Spike.”

The group made their greetings. Spike elbowed Pinkie and whispered to her, “She’s no Rarity, but she’s pretty easy on the eyes, huh?”

Pinkie nodded and whispered back, “Yeah!” She tilted her head and mused. “I wonder how she got all these stallions to come.”

Spike put his claws behind his head leisurely and glanced upwards for a second. “I wonder indeed…” he deadpanned.

Rarity had received a few offers for some of the items that were present, which were technically gifts to VeeVee, but the price given was so astronomical, the batpony agreed to part with them in exchange for even better threads tailor-made by Rarity herself.

After the purchase, Rarity stood on a box and made an announcement to her customers.

“Everypony please remember to cheer your loudest for the lovely Ms. VeeVee in the races in the coming days! I, Rarity, fashion designer extraordinaire, decree that she has the BEST chance of winning the races!”

All the fine-dressed ponies within earshot clapped their hooves against the ground. As the commotion continued, and the group talked amongst themselves, Spike noticed a pony standing off by herself and looking down off the edge of the courtyard. The grey-furred mare winced every now and again. Spike walked over to her.

“Hey there,” he asked once he had gotten away from the hubbub. The mare jumped into the air in fright. “Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. Are you alright? It looked like you were in pain.”

The mare turned around slowly. Spike instinctively moved backwards as the pinprick eyes behind the color-absorbing black mane latched onto his own inquisitive dragon ones.

“Hmm…” the mare hummed. It was if she saw right past Spike’s eyes to his brain. “Ohh… a friend… of Rarity’s.” She turned away from Spike once more. “Yes… I am fine. I wish to be… alone, however…” She said no more. Spike raised a claw, starting to speak, then did a toe-heel turn and went back to the others.

“Hold on,” he said to himself, “Why did I walk away again?”

Suddenly, Pinkie yanked Spike away from where he was standing and tossed him up on her back.

“Come on, Spike! Let’s go have some fun and get our sugar rush on!”

Spike shook his head to eliminate his previous thoughts. He licked his lips with a long, hungry dragon tongue.

“L-Lets!” he agreed, his nose catching a whiff of something deep fried and buttery.

The duo blew from one stand or stall to the next. First, of course, were the candy apples. The apples used weren’t quite as good as Sweet Apple Acres apples, but the real treat of a candy apple was the candy, and even Pinkie remarked that the candy was scrumptious.

They then ran into Mr. Cake, who had Pound Cake with him. Both Cakes were behind a modest stall, baked goods all around. Pinkie had been given the rest of the day off after helping Mr. Cake load the products onto the train that morning. He remarked that he and Pound Cake had only just arrived, given how slow the trains were. Pound was sound asleep on a cushion.

Spike and Pinkie talked for a brief minute, then purchased a piece of cake each, and were on to the horseshoe-throwing stall. Both friends tried their best but didn’t manage to win any prizes. Spike had pouted, but Pinkie shook him out of his slump with laughter and reminded him that they had a lot more games to play and fair food to devour.

- - -

Forty-five minutes had passed. Spike, now twenty pounds larger, engorged on sweets and deep-fried surprises on sticks, was almost rolling towards the center of the courtyard. Pinkie, not fairing much better, groaned as she rolled herself next to him.

“M-Maybe that was a bit” — Pinkie burped and moaned in displeasure — “Overboard?”

Spike gurgled and spoke in an incoherent babble as he and Pinkie started to feel the pressure of the crowd. There was little room between one pony and another. Maelstrom was set to appear at any time. The sun was closer to setting than to its apex in the sky at that point, but the heat was still intense, more so for the pudgy pony and her plump dragon friend.

Trumpets began a brassy tune in the distance, stealing the attention of everypony in and near the courtyard. The sounds came from a golden chariot, gleaming in the sunlight, sailing through the air toward the center of the courtyard where a stage was set. Upon landing, it was clear who the newest guest was. The crowd roared with cheers.

Pinkie’s smile forced the rolls of chub on her face upwards. “Princess Celestia! Ohhh, I know her, I know her!”

From behind Pinkie and Spike, soaring just above the courtyard, came a group of Maelstrom’s guards and the flying champion himself. They took their positions on the stage, Maelstrom and Celestia side-by-side.

Pinkie squinted at Maelstrom, then looked at her tail. She waited, and waited, but it didn’t so much as twitch.

She breathed out a sigh of relief.

Guess I worried for nothing!