Cider Trouble

by EzeFilly

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Other
Length: 3063

Mjölna´s strong addiction for cider puts her and other ponies in danger.

The cider stocks have run out and Mjölna finds herself in that depressing time of the year again. When even Pinkie Pie fails to cheer her up, Mjölna's situation takes a turn for the worse. However, she discovers that there may be some cider left after all, as a mysterious stranger appears possessing the golden brew. They are willing to share it, but at a high price. How far is Mjölna capable of going in order to fuel her addiction?

Published 2012-04-01 10:04:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-01 10:04:02 UTC

Cider Trouble: Chapter 1

Authors Notes:

First off I would like to say that this is my second story ever, and that english is not my primary language.
With that said I hope you enjoy!

Comments are highly encouraged, I thirst to improve and would LOVE your input!

By EzeFilly

"What do you MEAN you can't sell me any more cider?!" The tan-colored earth pony stomped her hooves against the sturdy wooden floor in frustration. The unicorn clerk behind the counter flicked his ears in annoyance at his most persistent customer's tantrum. Taking the time to adjust the glasses resting atop his snout ensured that he was able to collect himself. The assistant manager of Barnyard Bargains shook his head despondently.

"I am truly sorry, Miss. You and your friend just drank the last of the cider we had.” The unicorn shrugged, nodding towards Berry Punch and motioning a hoof towards the cider barrel behind the counter. A light kick to the barrel's side echoed hollowly, proving it to be well and truly empty. The tan mare's pupils shrank as she came to the horrifying realization-- the cider really was gone!

”Come on! You can´t be all out, there´s gotta be more!” Mjölna squawked out under her breath in disbelief.

”Please understand, Mjölna, cider season ended almost a month ago. We are lucky the stocks even lasted this long at all.” The clerk stepped out from behind the counter and trotted up to the distressed mare, pushing her respectfully but firmly towards the store's open door.

Still leading the mare off of the premises despite Mjölna's halfhearted protests, the clerk shot an angry glance towards Berry Punch. The burgundy-pelted mare had started poking around with her snout amidst a stand of juice bottles in her intoxicated hunt for more cider. Her slightly unfocussed eyes did not even blink as her actions caused one of the bottles to tip off of the counter and shatter against the floor.

Growling in irritation at the antics of Ponyville´s town drunk, the clerk had finally had enough. He gave Mjölna a firmer-than-necessary shove and shouted, "If you two aren´t going to buy anything, then leave!”

Mjölna soared through the air, almost enjoying the brief freedom of flight. All too soon the unusual sensations ended with a loud and embarrassing thud as her rump and four hooves landed heavily on the street. The impact kicked up a small cloud of dust. Coughing, the shamed mare groaned and rubbed her poor, aching flank. Climbing unsteadily to her hooves, she made a mental note not to cause a stir like that at Barnyard Bargains again.

The sun was just settling upon the horizon. Celestia's flaming orb painted the world with a glorious array of shining golds and ruddy reds, just like the color of cider and the apples from which it comes. The late afternoon breeze swept soothingly through the mare's cream colored mane, as refreshing as a cold mug of cider on a warm and sunny day. The weather was wonderful, but with everything reminding Mjölna of what she could not have, it did little to ease her bitterness

Mjölna trotted down the street, her head hung low in dejection. Nopony seemed to notice. The citizens of Ponyville carried on as if it was any other day, chatting with each other or having lunch after a hard day's work. It was undoubtedly a very beautiful start to a lovely Friday evening and soon enough the small township would be buzzing with party-going ponies dancing and playing in order to celebrate the coming weekend.

Mjölna acknowledged her happy fellow ponies and let out a sigh that ended in her brow contorting into a big frown. She usually would look forward to a fun night out like this herself, but her mind was too heavy with more important concerns: cider, or her lack thereof.

Ponies were well known for their excessive love of the deliciously tangy brown beverage, much more so than other species. Everypony was of course saddened when the annual cider season came to an end, but Mjölna took it far worse than anypony else. Even though her obsessive love of cider was well known, it was Mjölna alone who knew just how far her obsession went. For the last week, ever since the cider stocks began to run out, she had been bothering every store that sold the product. Some of the shops that had already run out of their cider supply had been so annoyed with Mjölna pestering them that they had sold her their own personal stocks in order to get rid of her--at double the price of course. But little did they know just how far a cider-craving mare could go for a sip of that incredible, intoxicating drink.

”Hello!” a gleeful voice pierced the shroud of silence that had surrounded Mjölna.

The tan earth pony let out a squeak as she bumped right into a pony-sized mess of pink fur. Two large cyan eyes stared down at her above an even larger smile.

"Oh! Hiya, Pinkamena," Mjölna said, grinning as she tried to fake a cheerfulness that she didn't feel. To say that she was unsuccessful was to say that Mjölna enjoyed a drop of cider every now and then.

”Something wrong?” Pinkie asked.

Mjölna sighed. ”No, I´m all--”

”All? You´re all down all because all the cider is all gone all again?” Pinkie questioned with a worried look on her pink muzzle. She never did look quite herself without a big wide smile.

”Wha? Uhm, well I guess... you don´t happen to have some left?” Mjölna asked, coming off as more desperate than she had intended.

”Nopsies! As I told you yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that! Oh, oh! And the day before that as well!” Pinkie Pie beamed as she counted up all of the times Mjölna had been to Sugarcube Corner asking if they still had any cider in stock.

”But you know what I do have?” the pink earth pony continued. ”I just thought about it yesterday and I immediately thought about you, because you get all saddy-waddy when the cider is gone!” Pinkie took a deep breath.

Mjölna´s ears stood at full attention as she waited for Pinkie to say it. What could she possibly have to top cider?

”Apple juice!” Pinkie Pie cheered. And before Mjölna could react she had a purple straw shoved into her muzzle attached to a green colored juice box. “Will make your foal go wild!” the pack of apple juice boldly stated in apple-shaped letters on the cover.

Mjölna´s eyes were still wide from the sudden outburst, but she did not complain. Closing her eyes the tan earth wet the roof of her mouth with her warm wet pony tongue. The pink velvety muscle throbbed in anticipation. A small trickle of drool left the corner of her mouth as her trembling lips massaged the plastic appendage in her muzzle. Her soft, warm lip continued to massage the small rod in her maw, her dripping tongue lapping over the head and dancing over the hole that would soon release its delicious contents into her awaiting, hungry mouth.

Just when it seemed that the straw could take no more, Mjölna decided that playtime was over. With a gentle smile she suckled gently on the rod, her lips sealing tightly around it as she mouthed the tube. The mare kept her eyes closed as the cool liquid started to seep out of the straw, coating the eager insides of her mouth.

Suddenly Mjölna´s eyes shot open, their blissful gleam fading as she looked at Pinkie Pie. The pink mare's face was frozen in an awkward, glassy-eyed grin as Pinkie tried to wrap her mind around Mjölna's love of the straw's hard, eager length. A thin thread of saliva hung between the cider-craving mare´s slightly parted lips and the straw. However, a frown of disappointment slowly formed.

”It´s just not the same...” Mjölna sighed and let go of the straw, passing the pack of apple juice back to Pinkie. "It´s not cider.”

With another frown Mjölna slowly continued plodding down the road, leaving a shell-shocked Pinkie in her wake.

A few more minutes down the road and a left turn brought Mjölna to the dusty track outside the local salt bar. She did not actually like salt all that much and it made her act all silly. But today had just been one of those days. Looking at the closed door to the bar, her ears twitched at the loud noises coming from inside. Somepony had certainly started their night early.

Inside the bar the noise was just as loud as she had feared. Colts and mares indulged themselves with sparkling bowls brimming with salt. The intoxicated ponies were anything but quiet, laughing uproariously and talking considerably louder than necessary. Her eyes lit up as she spotted Applejack in the midst of the crowd. But just as Mjölna was about to assault her with cider-related questions she decided against it; she had bothered Applejack enough the last week about cider that did not exist.

Mjölna trotted up to the bar and squeezed between two stallions already bleary-eyed from the salt coating their muzzles. When the bartender looked her way, she raised a hoof and ordered. "Just a small one,” she requested, “and a roasted hay bacon strip to go with it.”

”New in town, cutie?” A somewhat slurred but familiar voice greeted Mjölna, making a painfully bad attempt at being a 'dark and mysterious stranger'.

”You know who I am, Caramel,” Mjölna sighed, rolling her eyes.

”Snap, why didn't you say so? You´re like a sister to me, gosh darn it, yuck.” Caramel shook his head and wiped his muzzle clean of the excess salt, quickly making himself presentable for Mjölna. The tan mare remained silent, resting her head against her hooves and staring at a nail in the opposite wall. She barely managed to hold back another sigh.

"Anything wrong?" Caramel asked after eying Mjölna for a few seconds.

The stallion's words jolted Mjölna out of her funk. Looking up in bewilderment, she scrambled to organize her thoughts. "Wrong? With me? No, no. It's just been... you know, a long day. What about you?"

Caramel shrugged, pushing away his empty bowl of salt. ”Not a whole lot... I´ve been coming down here more often ever since I tried out salt for the first time to rinse the taste of that Flim-Flam cider dreck.” Mjölna nodded in a weak attempt at seeming interested. The last thing she wanted to talk about was that disgrace to apple cider that the Flim-Flam brothers had produced. Where was her order, anyway?

”Speaking of cider," Caramel added thoughtfully, "I met this pony between the Joke Shop and the Bakery down in the town square earlier. Told me there was still some cider to go around. I called horseapples on it; all the stocks have run dry, remember?”

Mjölna's ears perked up, her head following suit as she turned her wide-eyed stare on the slightly tipsy Caramel. Before she could stop herself, the shocked mare blurted out, ”Cider? As in Sweet Apple Acres cider?”

”Haha, how should I know?” Caramel turned briefly to wave at a friend on the other side of the bar. ”Not that it´s importa- Mjölna?”

She was nowhere to be seen.

Empty. The narrow alley between the Joke Shop and the Bakery was anything but alive, with not a soul in sight. A few barrels were the only occupants of the alley, littering the darkened side street with their presence. Mjölna nosed them hopefully, but the rugged barrels were dry, their contents long since drained to leave them empty shells.

”Hello?” Mjölna asked anxiously. Her voice dissipated almost as quickly as it had sounded, nary a spiders web rustled in the wind as all was quiet.

Mjölna began to shiver. She did not like this at all. The sight of the deep, empty alley made the hair rise on her neck as she sniffed the air. All seemed normal, all looked normal and all smelled normal. Still, Mjölna toyed with the idea of forgetting this entire ordeal and walking back to the bar to forget her concerns over a bit of salt. But she pushed the defeatist thoughts aside. She could not give up now; cider was on the line. She must not have been looking hard enough.

”Hello? Is anypony there?” Mjölna called when she had cleared her throat and regained some of her flagging confidence.

Putting one hoof in front of the next, Mjölna slowly ventured deeper into the abandoned alley, her eyes glowing faintly in the fading light from the street as she scanned her new surroundings. Nothing was there. Absolutely nothing. Regardless, she continued to walk. The alley was deeper than she remembered it being, narrowing and becoming even darker the further she went.

A startled shriek of terror suddenly erupted from Mjölna´s muzzle as a rat skittered across the empty space of the desolate alley. It squeaked a retort as it briefly laid eyes upon the startled mare and then disappeared into a weathered crack in one of the walls. She shook her head to regain her composure. It was just a rat. Still, the mare's ears twitched and her tail flicked nervously from side to side. Her body was on full alert, and it would take at least a few seconds to run out of the cold, foreboding alley from where she was now standing.

Mjölna´s heart had barely even begun to simmer down as a cold raspy voice suddenly chastised in her ears, turning her blood to ice. It was impossible to place the origin of the voice. It was neither unquestionably from a pony nor definitely from some other race, and she could not even discern the speaker's gender. The voice's question rang in the cider-seeker's flattening ears. ”What are you seeking?”

”Where are you? Who are you?!” blurted Mjölna, backing fearfully against the cold brick wall as her wide eyes darted this way and that to search for the source of the mysterious voice.

”You cannot comprehend me,” the voice replied, its raspy tones bouncing off the narrow walls and making the creature impossible for Mjölna to locate.

As if materializing from the shadows itself, a dark figure stepped out in the faint moonlight that seeped into the alley from Luna´s amazing night. Mjölna´s eyes bulged in terror as she attempted to identify the dark figure, but the exact form was impossible to make out in the swirling shadows that seemed to cling to the black being. A gloomy hood hid whatever creature lurked beneath the concealing fabric.

”Are you here for the cider?” the dark figure asked simply, never leaving the ever-dancing edge of the shadow´s influence.

Despite her fear, Mjölna´s heart leaped at the mention of cider. This was the one Caramel had been talking about! For a moment the dreadful presence of the dark being seemed like the smallest worry in the world, as the mare's mouth watered with the very thought of cold, bubbling cider seeping down her warm, thirsty gullet. ”Yes, yes! Do you have cider? Where? How did you get it? And-”

”It is all unimportant, except for the cider itself...” the dark figure interrupted, quieting the excited mare.

The familiar hiss of magic whispered through the alley as a sturdy wooden jug floated towards Mjölna. Ponies did not have as impressive a sense of smell as some other creatures, but one whiff of the heavenly scent was all Mjölna needed. She sprung instantly to full alert at the strong scent emanating from the sloshing golden liquid surely contained within the jug. Greedily she snatched the container out of the air, oblivious to the world around her as she wasted no time in inspecting the contents of the wooden treasure.

”Cider!” Mjölna squealed joyfully, lifting the jug to her lips with her mouth opened wide.

Mjölna's eyes rolled back in her head as the wonderful Sweet Apple Acre cider flowed through her, bathing her tongue with its delicious yet indescribable tang. Her hind legs twitched , her eyelids flickered open and shut and cider-stirred drool dribbled down her cheeks making a complete mess out of the soft brown pelt of her chest. If there ever was a pony heaven, this was it. A paradise in the Equestrian ideal; a living, beating, wet equine dream.

A set of white teeth flickered faintly in the shadows of the mysterious creature's hood. The dark entity watched in silent amusement at the embarrassing ordeal of an addict getting her fix. The softly sparkling sheen of a hidden horn faded away from under the dark hood, releasing its host's throat from the treacherous magical enhancement. A clear laughter echoed through the deep alley at the sight of those pleading eyes from the mare holding an empty jug between her fore hooves, her body still shivering in the throes of the afterglow that its contents had given her.

”There is more where that came from...” the hooded being snickered. Without the magical enhancement the voice clung surprisingly clearly. ”If you agree to do whatever I tell you.”

”Oh, anything!” Mjölna blurted out without even sparing the slightest crumb of a second to think through the choice she had just made. The warmth of the cider was still present in her belly, keeping the seeping cold of the gritty alleyway at bay.

”Good, good...” the beautifully fearsome voice spoke from under the dark blanket of fabric concealing its wearer from the probing eyes of the world.

Mjölna felt a hoof gently put onto the centre of her head. It was warm and furry; not at all like the skeletal embrace that the earlier cold voice had promised with its icy grasp upon her ears. She looked up, her large eyes attempting to glance under the hood of the mysterious stranger. Her efforts were to no avail.

”You shall begin by obtaining something for me. Something which should be mine.” A short moment of silence followed; nary a breath of wind reached their ears. ”Think you can do that?”

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