• Published 11th Nov 2012
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At the Grand Galloping Gala - RainbowDoubleDash



The Lunaverse-6 must navigate the treacherous Grand Galloping Gala in order to bring aid to Ponyville

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7. Back in Ponyville

Making clouds the old-fashioned way was something that was still done in many smaller townships throughout Equestria, mostly the communities that didn’t center on farming. Ponyville did center on farming, however, and further was not small by any means, with the full expanse of the town and its environs taking up more than a sixth of the entire North Everfree province. Raindrops, and indeed the entire weather patrol, had been clocking a lot of overtime as a result of the need to make clouds without the benefit of Cloudsdale’s weather factory, and that was even with more a than a third of the town’s non-weather patrol pegasi volunteering to help.

It was a four-stage process being conducted at the Ponyville highland reservoir, which lay near the train tracks that connected Ponyville to the outside world. First, a team of pegasi would dive down into the reservoir, soaking themselves thoroughly before shooting hundreds of feet into the air. Their natural magic would seep from their feathers and hooves into the water droplets before they cascaded off of the pegasi. A second team waited below, flying in circles and beating their wings, sending the falling water droplets upwards whenever they tried to fall, until eventually the droplets dissolved into magic-charged vapor fog that would rise towards the sky. This vapor was collected by a third team of pegasi floating a thousand feet in the air, who used their hooves and wings to condense the fog into cumulus clouds, before passing them off to the final team of pegasi, who would cart the clouds off to the cloud silo in town, there to be stored until needed.

It was long, slow, trying job making even a single decently-sized cloud, let alone the hundreds the silo needed to be filled. The vapor-maker job was undoubtedly the worst, though, as it required constant flying, often upside-down in order to create the updrafts necessary to buoy the droplets as they fell from the diving team. It was also inefficient, as hundreds of drops of water would fall back into the reservoir anyway for every one that was successfully transformed into vapor. Raindrops – a vapor-maker along with most of the actual weather-patrol, leaving the easier jobs of diver and sculptor to the inexperienced volunteers – estimated that they were only making one cumulus cloud per hour, at best, and that was with dozens of pegasi working on diving, vapor-making, and cloud-sculpting each. Some part of Raindrops felt a sense of tribal pride stirring at doing things the old-fashioned way alongside her fellow pegasi, but for the most part she was just tired and really hoping that a goodly portion of what little emergency funds the town had would be used to acquire new clouds from Cloudsdale, the weather factory there able to churn out a half-dozen clouds in the same time with not nearly as much effort expended.

The whistle of a train coming in from Canterlot, the four-thirty, at last made a just-as-tired-looking Rainbow Dash – who had been moving between all three jobs, filling in where she was needed – call it a day for the weather patrol and volunteers. Almost as one, the pegasi let themselves fall to the ground, some – including Raindrops – going as far as to actually dive into the reservoir itself to cool off. By the time Raindrops emerged, setting down on the side of the reservoir, the train was steaming on by the reservoir. It looked surprisingly full – Ponyville hadn’t been visited very often over the past week, for the obvious reasons. This train, however, was literally crawling with ponies, several of them in uniforms standing atop an armored cart in the middle of the train, wearing official-looking uniforms and with sheathed but obvious weapons, mostly short truncheons, though there were also crossbows.

Raindrops frowned deeply at the sight – what now? What could possibly be happening to Ponyville now? Despite her aching wings, she took to the sky, along with many of the other pegasi, and followed the train from the reservoir into town, keeping a respectful distance from the armored car lest the guards with crossbows decide they might be needed. By the time the train pulled into the station, several pegasi had broken off from the team to spread the word, though as Raindrops alighted atop the train platform she found herself joined by a small crowd of other ponies that had seen the cloud of pegasi following the train into town and wanted to know what was going on.

As soon as the train came to a complete stop, the car immediately in front of the armored one opened, and Trixie – bedecked in her hat and cape, of course – trotted out. She waved to her friend, but took a few moments to say something in a low voice to the armored car’s guards before heading over to her. “I’m back,” Trixie announced, loudly so that the small crowd of ponies who had gathered at the train station, and the pegasi who were still in the air, could hear.

“You’ve brought friends,” Raindrops noted, eyeing the guards. They didn’t notice, working on undoing the locks of the armored car. “They look…unfriendly.”

Trixie’s smile widened a little. “Don’t worry, they’re just here to protect what’s in the car.”

“Why? What’s in there?”

Trixie’s smile grew several inches at that, as though Raindrops had asked just the right question, and the unicorn flourished one hoof. As if on cue – or, in all likelihood given that Trixie had been talking in hushed tones with the guards ahead of time, precisely on cue – two of the guards unclasped the door to the armored train cart and opened it, revealing several long, secure chests, each stamped with the seal of the Royal Bank of Equestria and the REMM.

Trixie’s smile grew even wider as one of the chests was brought out by ponies inside the car, who unlocked it with four different keys and opened it to reveal inside large, neat stacks of coins. “My dear Raindrops,” Trixie said, still loud enough so that everypony in the crowd could hear her, “one does not transport three hundred thousand silver bits without an escort.”

---

Once more, an impromptu town meeting was held in the farmer’s market, with Trixie and the rest of the town council on stage, and hundreds of Ponyvillians sitting before it. Unlike last time, however, there was not defeat and shock in the eyes of the assembled ponies. Instead, there was genuine hope, though it was hope that was being kept closely guarded lest it be snatched away from them.

“Now, even for the Night Court,” Trixie said to the gathered ponies, “just shy of nine hundred thousand bits is a lot of money to gather all at once. So, the REMM is giving Ponyville relief money in three parts – a shipment of three hundred thousand bits this week and next week, and then a week after that the remaining two-hundred eighty-five thousand. It’s all coming in cash and is being stored at the town hall. The Equestrian Royal Bank has insisted on keeping guards on it at all times, for the obvious reasons.”

“Cash?” Berry Punch asked, tapping her hooves together as she looked to Cheerilee. “Why cash?”

“It’ll make things easier for us,” Cheerilee pointed out. “Being able to offer real bits up front, bits straight from the bank, will probably get contractors in a bidding war for us…might make the repairs cheaper and faster.”

Berry Punch nodded at that in understanding. She stood up from where she had been sitting, raising a hoof, and received a nod from Trixie. “How’s the money going to be spent?” she asked. Cheerilee stood as well, though only to put a re-assuring hoof over her sister’s shoulder, as she too looked at Trixie.

Trixie winced, though only slightly. “That’s the…inconvenient part,” she admitted. “By law the money has to first go to ‘places vital to the governance and maintenance of Equestria.’ That means that we need to budget out how much money is going to the town hall, the courthouse, weather station, the post office and train station, all those places first. Once we have a budget hammered out – we don’t need to actually have fixed those places, just submit to the REMM how the money is going to be spent – then money can be handed out to private citizens, starting with the highest priorities and working downwards.”

Berry Punch shifted at that, and Cheerilee felt a pang of worry for her sister. Her livelihood was all but ruined, but she couldn’t honestly claim that a bar and soda shop could be considered a ‘high priority,’ not when she would be competing with apothecaries, farms, and grocery stores for relief money. Nearby, Cheerilee spotted Lyra giving Bon Bon a similar hug.

“How long will ‘working downwards’ take?” Cheerilee asked. There was a slight edge that she couldn’t keep from her voice, even though she knew for a fact that Trixie was only being a messenger here, and that this news was good news, just not as amazingly good as she wanted it to be.

Trixie’s smile returned a at the question. “I’ve spoken to the Princess,” she said. “On Monday, there’s going to be basically an army of accountants and claims experts coming to town. They’ll be conducting interviews and assessing the damages. The Princess wants this whole thing to be resolved as quickly as possible, so they’ll be working overtime and should be done by Wednesday at the latest. After that, they’ll start organizing priority and dolling out cash to private citizens by Friday, and from there it’s being left up to you how best to spend your relief money. Best guess is that by this time next week, even if everypony hasn’t received cash yet, they’ll at least have an idea of when it will arrive. And it definitely will be in your hooves no more than a day, maybe two, after the last shipment arrives.”

The crowd of ponies broke out into discussion at that, looking between each other, talking amongst themselves, wondering where their livelihoods would be placed on the ‘priority’ scale, and whether the Night Court, which had come close to abandoning them already, would be able to keep to the schedule that Trixie had promised. The conversations began to rise slightly in volume over the next minute, and Trixie’s smile dropped at the sound as her eyes darted across the crowd in worry.

“That’s great, though!” A voice called out, above the rest. Cheerilee looked, and saw Carrot Top making her way through the crowd, to the front of the stage. She looked dog-tired, had probably been working well past sunset and well before sunrise every day trying to fix her farm and start growing carrots again. As she climbed up onto the stage, however, her exhaustion was replaced by a look of determination. “This time a few days ago,” Carrot Top said once she was on stage and facing the Ponyvillians, “we didn’t think we had any money coming our way. Thanks to Trixie, we have every last bit we asked for from Canterlot coming!”

“I agree!” Cheerilee called out, as she made sure to give Berry Punch a re-assuring hug before joining Carrot Top and Trixie on the stage. “We all knew we’d have to be sticking together and helping each other out, right? We’re still doing that now – but now there’s an end in sight. A good end!”

“Why’d it take so long in the first place?” One pony, Flitter, called from the crowd. “I think that needs to be answered. Canterlot was going to abandon us! And what’s all this help gonna cost us?”

Carrot Top and Cheerilee both looked to Trixie at that, who was standing still, considering. “There are no strings attached,” she said at length, “no expectations apart from the ones I already mentioned. The money is Ponyville’s, every last jangle. But we can’t just have it in a pile for anypony to grab. It needs to be organized and hoofed out responsibly, and it’ll take a few days to figure out how to do that.”

The murmurs started up again at that, but this time everypony seemed to come into agreement that Trixie had a point. Ivory Scroll, who had been talking quietly with the rest of the town council, stood as the murmurs began dying down, and walked over to Trixie. “Representative Trixie, you’ll forgive us for being…guarded,” she said. “We’ve been to the sun and back over this past week, and I think we’re letting it show. The simple fact is, though, that two days ago, it had looked like Canterlot, the Night Court, and the Princess herself had abandoned us. Then you went to Canterlot, and have returned with everything we needed, everything we asked for. So, from the bottom of all our hearts, on behalf of all of Ponyville: thank-you, Representative.” Ivory Scroll bowed her head, even as the rest of the council stood from their table and did likewise.

Cheerilee looked back out to the crowd, who at last seemed to be taking in what Cheerilee and Carrot Top had said, that even if right now they were in the same spot, there was now a hope spot, a reason to think that Ponyville could make it through this bad time and become a flourishing town again. “You heard the mayor!” she said. “Come on, Trixie deserves at least one cheer! Hip-hip – ”

Hooray!” About a third the ponies in the crowd called out disjointedly, not expecting the cheer. Somepony in the crowd must not have liked how empty is sounded, because a moment later there was another rallying call.

“Hip-hip – ”

“Hooray!”

“Hip-hip!”

“Hooray!”

The last was either everypony in the crowd, or so close as to be no difference. Following that came hoof-stomps, whistles, and other exultations, enough to rattle the earth and the makeshift stage that the town council and Trixie and her friends stood upon.

Cheerilee looked to Trixie, expecting to see her friend drinking in the cheers with a smug grin – that was how she usually took in applause whenever she put on a magic show, after all. Instead, however, Trixie was looking out at the crowd with something that resembled shock, her eyes wide and watery. Cheerilee and Carrot Top were both beside her in a moment, hooves on Trixie’s withers as the unicorn took off her wizard’s cap and used it to hide her face from the crowd. Despite her tears, though, she was smiling behind the hat.

“Trixie?” Cheerilee asked over the din. “Are you alright?”

Trixie nodded, closing her eyes and sniffing slightly. “I needed this,” she responded. “You have no idea…”

Trixie wiped her eyes, put her hat back on her head, and looked out at the crowd, a subtle shift coming over her features as she stepped forward and threw her hooves wide, horn glowing. From behind the stage, a series of illusory fireworks launched into the sky, exploding into a cacophony of colors and shapes and nearly deafening sounds. That only made the crowd cheer even louder. When the last firework went off, Trixie bowed deeply to Ponyville, and quietly – so quietly that even Cheerilee, who was only a few feet away, barely heard her – asked, “was there ever any doubt?” It wasn’t asked as a rhetorical, hubristic question, however – more like the mantra of a pony re-assuring herself that she was actually worth a damn.

Cheerilee trotted over to Trixie’s side, once more putting a hoof on her withers. “Never,” she assured her.

---

“You didn’t answer Flitter’s other question,” Lyra noted later, at Trixie’s home. Her living room was basically intact from the zebra-induced riot, at least structurally, with the window only having a few spiderweb cracks. More notable was the tears to all the furniture and the previously overturned bookcase, which Trixie had put all the books back into without organizing them (not that this actually changed much from the bookcase’s state before the riot). Lyra, Trixie, and their other friends were all gathered, eager to hear about what had happened in Canterlot.

Normally, Trixie would have been providing a wide assortment of beverages with various levels of alcohol in them for her friends to relax the remainder of the night with, but she was both out of said beverages, and neither Lyra nor anypony else in the room much felt like risking alcohol quite yet anyway. Instead, the gathered ponies stuck with glasses of water, not trusting the juice in Trixie’s icebox to have not been spiked at some point during the riot.

Trixie grimaced at Lyra’s point, looking down at her glass. “I know,” she said. “There were…problems.”

Lyra frowned at that, looking to everypony else first before pressing on. Carrot Top and Raindrops both looked like they were fighting the urge to just nod off, both exhausted from the work they’d had to do over the past few days. Cheerilee and Ditzy both looked frazzled, meanwhile; the former worried for her sister’s bar, and the latter worried about her own home. Money was usually tight enough for Ditzy under the best of circumstances; the gray pegasus was visibly thrilled to hear that their relief money would be coming after all. Lying on the most intact part of the nearest couch was Dinky, having arrived with her mother full of smiles and joy to see Trixie returned, but having then swiftly lost a battle with exhaustion from helping her mother clean up their home.

When Trixie didn’t elaborate other than to continue contemplating her glass, Lyra spoke up again. “Night Court problems?”

Trixie flinched at the question, looking to everypony else in the room. “Okay,” she said, “when I arrived two days ago, when I got off the train, I ran into a little welcoming committee..”

Trixie kept talking for some time after that – about how her every move through Canterlot was blocked by the manipulations and cronies of Blueblood, Greengrass, and Fisher – the last being a new name for Lyra, at least insofar as ‘Trixie’s political enemies’ were concerned – how she had finally resorted to breaking into Night Light’s office to talk to him; how he had outlined to her how he blamed her for his daughter’s disappearance and how he viewed Trixie as nothing more than another vainglorious, petty noble-in-training seeking to climb into the Night Court for her own gratification. She needed to pause a moment after relating his ultimatum for leaving her alone, and when she continued…

Lyra’s eyes grew steadily wider as she listened to Luna’s words through Trixie’s mouth, about the cycles of history that Luna saw, her knowledge of the corruption in the Night Court and her unwillingness to truly step up and change things. When Trixie had finished, she was once more visibly shaken, and Carrot Top was at her side immediately, a hoof on her withers to calm the unicorn.

“That’s…” Cheerilee said, keeping her voice down for Dinky’s sake, “that’s just irresponsible of Luna.”

“I don’t think so,” Lyra said, tapping a hoof to her mouth as she thought over her history which, as a bard, she was quite well-versed in. “I mean…well, Luna has a point with that whole history thing. Nations do go through cycles like that. Either that or some outside power strikes them down when they’re weak. Equestria’s an exception, especially considering how old it is…and maybe it’s an exception because of what the Princess does.”

“Which is the bare minimum that she can?” Raindrops countered, also struggling to keep her voice down. “There’s following the law and then there’s hiding behind it. I know there’s more she can do, can legally do. She’s the Princess! If she honestly thinks that this noble or that noble is corrupt, she could call them out in the Night Court, or something. What’s she so afraid of?”

Lyra saw Ditzy blink a few times at that, as the pegasus looked down to her sleeping daughter. “Plenty,” she said, as she draped a wing over Dinky. One of Ditzy’s eyes looked out to her friends. “I think…I think the Princess is always afraid. At least since Corona.” She gently squeezed Dinky with one wing, and the filly shifted a little, leaning closer to her mother in her sleep. “She’s got tons to be afraid of…”

Trixie nodded. “That’s the impression I got. And I guess I can understand why…but she’s taken it too far. Sometimes Luna has to get personally involved in things, actually use her power. That wouldn’t make her a tyrant.” Trixie looked to each of her friends, a look of determination overcoming her features. “And the Night Court? I think it needs a good, solid buck in the flank.”

Lyra raised one eyebrow as she looked at Trixie. “Uh-oh…” she intoned. “I know that look. That’s your 'I have a plan' look.”

Trixie nodded as she looked between her friends. “Yeah. I do. And part of it Luna knows about already, she’s approved of it and is helping me with it.” She took off her hat, placed it on the floor brim-down, and mumbled a few magic words. A moment later, she pulled her hat off the floor, and dozens – scores, even – of deep blue envelopes poured out from the hat.

The other five ponies in the room stared at the envelopes. They looked very familiar – identical, in fact, to a sextet of envelopes each of them had received a few months ago. “Are those…?” Cheerilee asked.

Trixie nodded. “Grand Galloping Gala tickets,” she confirmed, as her horn glowed and she began organizing the envelopes into neat stacks. “A hundred of them. Eight of them are for the town council. Luna wants to personally apologize to them at the Gala and work out any kind of help she can. But as for the rest…” Trixie considered for a few moments before shrugging. “I was thinking some kind of raffle, tomorrow morning.”

Lyra picked up a few envelopes herself, looking them over. “The Princess just added another hundred guests to the Gala? Just like that?”

Trixie shrugged again. “Every member of the Night Court receives an invitation and a plus-one, plus all sorts of other VIPs and their plus-ones. There’s already going to be something like seven hundred ponies; adding on two hundred or so more isn’t that hard, especially since Luna can just relax the dress code and throw as many bits as she wants to catering services in Canterlot to supply more food and drink. The only real change is the venue; it’s going to be moved to the courtyard rather than the grand hall.” Trixie offered a grin. “Luna is planning to say something about how Canterlot should have acted much faster to help Ponyville, that the ponies have all been invited as her personal guests as part of an apology to Ponyville, basically she’s going to try and make the nobles feel ashamed.”

Raindrops considered. “Okay…” she said. “Good plan, I guess. But you said that this is the part that Luna knows about already. So I’m guessing that you’ve got something else planned, too.”

Trixie grimaced at that, her grin dropping. “Yeah,” she said. “Like I said…the Night Court is rotten, and we need to expose that, expose Greengrass and Blueblood and Fisher and Night Light. So…so I’ve got another plan, too, and I’ll need your help to pull it off, and some help from some other ponies I trust…and one or two that I don’t trust at all.”

Trixie tapped her hooves together. “It’ll be illegal. But these attacks against us – trying to separate us, pull us apart, move us around, threaten our livelihoods, all this junk that’s happened to us since we became the Elements, and now using an entire town as a pressure point, letting hundreds of ponies suffer just to get at one mare…it needs to stop, and it’s only going to stop if Luna ponies up…and if the Night Court realizes that we aren’t just pieces to be moved around on a board. That we’re our own ponies. That we can strike back.

“Like I said, it’ll be illegal. Very illegal. But I think we’ll be doing something that’s, on paper, wrong, so that we can do something that we know is morally right. But I’m not going to try and sell this, or play it up, or argue for it. If even one of you is against it, then we won’t do it, and just hope for the best.”

Trixie paused for another moment, before beginning to talk again, outlining her plan. She didn’t pretty it up for them, just stated everything she intended to do, and planned to have them do, who would be involved, and what she hoped would be the result. And she was right: it was certainly illegal. Indeed, it bordered on outright treason.

But in the end, wasn’t everything the Night Court had been doing the same? Lyra thought to her own brushes with it. Greengrass had tried to use her mentor, Octavia, to manipulate her away from Ponyville, to drive a wedge between her and Trixie…and then later, he had tried to get Octavia banished far away, tried to manipulate Luna herself into doing his own dirty work. And Octavia had been attacked by thugs from another Night Court noble as well, even if there was no solid proof linking that…

There was long silence after Trixie finished talking, as everypony thought over her plan. “I’m in,” Lyra said at length, the first to speak up. “The Night Court needs to be bucked in the flank, so that it can’t hurt anypony anymore.”

“Me too,” Carrot Top said. “Ponyville can’t get caught up like this again. It’s not fair to us, to hit us while we're down the way the Night Court did.”

“That was just one pony,” Raindrops pointed out after a moment, crossing her hooves in front of her. “But…but that one pony was one of the most powerful in Equestria, and he nearly got away with it. Yeah…yeah. I’m in too.”

Cheerilee sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to,” she said. “But I’m in too…but not because of what’s already happened. That’s bad, and I know it’s bad…but even worse is that Corona is out there, somewhere. We can’t wait years and years for Luna to fix everything like she plans to…we need to kick her into gear, or else Corona’s going to come knocking at the worst time, and then everypony suffers.”

Ditzy considered, once again squeezing Dinky close. “How long until Dinky becomes a target?” she asked softly. “Somepony already tried to kidnap her once…yeah, the Night Court wasn’t really involved in that, but how long until some noble gets impatient? Gets stupid? Doesn’t care about hurting her, or any of you…” at length, Ditzy nodded. “Okay. I’ll help.”

Trixie nodded herself. “Okay,” she said. “Okay…zut. I was actually kind of hoping you’d back out.”

“What?” Lyra asked. “Why?”

Trixie grimaced. “Because now I have to go and do something I’ve been avoiding for years…”

---

It was the day of the Gala, about 1:30 PM, and a certain viscount in Canterlot had only just finished his breakfast and was getting ready to perform a few quick duties before beginning his final preparations for his attendance at the Gala, when he was interrupted by a page announcing that he had a visitor. Scowling, the viscount left his office, and found himself looking at a blue unicorn with a silver mane, wearing a star-studded, purple wizard’s cape and hat. When he entered, the unicorn took off her hat, holding it in her hooves, and swallowed, before looking him in the eye.

“Viscount Prince Blueblood,” Trixie said, “would you like to accompany me to the Grand Galloping Gala?”

Author's Note:

According to my plan, we've got only one more chapter to go before we finally get to the Gala itself.

Incidentally, in case you couldn't tell by my five-paragraph essay on how clouds are made by pegasi without the aid of the weather factory, pegasi are my favorite tribe.