A Sweet Taste of Cake, Chpt. 10

Chapter 10: The Stand


As the broken foundation of the gingerbread house stood before them, Cup Cake and Carrot Cake faced any number of decisions.

The broken foundation sat on the clear, white countertop while the forlorn gingerbread house itself stood on its stanchion, an upturned baking rack pressed into a new function. Both awaited their choice.

There were many possible of ways of going about the repair, but one must be chosen. One course of action must be called upon, or the whole project could soon be reduced to rubble.

The two ponies looked at one another. In an instant, Cup Cake was going through various cupboards. Carrot saw her gathering up ginger, nutmeg, and cloves.

Carrot realized what she was doing. He saw the look of depression across her face as she began to make her plans.

Cup Cake was preparing to make more gingerbread, to start a new batch.

She looked to him and began to speak. At that moment new voices rang out in the showcase room. At once they both turned towards the door, but she pointed once more to the frosting that still stood resolutely upon his nose.

The two looked at one another, she painting a small smile of comfort, and then quickly went to see to the customers.

Carrot turned back to the gingerbread house, saw the ingredients that she had begun to lay out. She wanted to take the safe route, the route that would lead to the foundation being remade and reset.

But, he knew, that would take time. Time to knead, time to chill, time to shape the dough and bake it.

Time… time was already working against them.

Carrot took a deep breath and looked around his kitchen… their kitchen. Upon the table the various utensils they had been using sat, some already covered with the sticky remains of dough or coated with the same batch of frosting that still remained upon his nose.

If they wished to have this project done in time to present it, to capture the meaning of what this special order meant for them, then they would need time.

They did not have time to begin anew.

He would make the decision. He would go forward right now as best he knew how.

Carrot looked to the baking rack where the long discarded pieces they had broken off of the gingerbread stood. To his alarm he heard the gingerbread house give the slightest of creaks, heard it begin to protest the absence of its critical component.

With that he grabbed up the trimmed gingerbread and was grateful that they'd not yet thrown them away. As he did, he laid them to the old broken foundation, measuring them against the cracked surface.

In one motion he lifted the bowl of thick frosting, the same type that she had used to make the dollop that still rested on his nose.

He began to rebuild the foundation, Carrot making his choice, deciding to force the issue and bring the project back around. He would find a way that they could go forward together without surrendering all that they had won.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a miserable two weeks.

The mud of early spring still clung to ponies as they walked down the street. As they entered the bakery, their cursory efforts to wipe the mud from themselves failed to win the anything but the slightest of false smiles from Carrot.

As he mopped up after them, he wondered if his customers were intentionally avoiding walking down the cobblestone streets to give him something to do. It was as though the ponies who walked out of his bakery with their cakes and croissants were attempting to draw him out of his reflection, help him avoid the realization of what was happening around him.

The bakery was empty. She was not there and it was far, far, far more than just her helping hooves that he missed.

Canapés had taken her back, had been wonderfully understanding and quick to offer a spot on her staff to one who had proven her worth before. Carrot had actually met her, Cupcake bringing her employer around to meet him and see the bakery that they had been working so very hard to establish… had been trying so very hard to give a strong foundation…

As he showed Canapés around, he could sense the unicorn beginning to understand that something had gone wrong, that there was something hovering between them.

As they had wished her goodbye, they stood in the doorway. Standing there in the spot where they had shared their first kiss brought to mind how far they had come together… how far they still have to go.

He lowered his head to her and made little motions to ask for her touch. She replied just as willingly as ever, still sought his contact, but the heaviness was still there. No matter how gently he rolled his nose to hers, no matter lightly he touched his face to hers, the fear would not come out. He could not draw the worry out of her.

What else is a stallion for?

"Cupcake," he worried, "there's, there has to be some way… I mean, if, if we talk to your father…"

"Carrot," she breathed as she laid her head across his withers, "my father… my father sees the world in two ways. You're either family and friend or an enemy waiting for your chance…"

He slowly began to sway, let his motion rock her as she spoke of growing up in a house where the love of her father, strong and palpable, could in a moment descend into a whirlpool of rage and wrath that would send her and her siblings galloping to their rooms in fear.

Though never directed at them unless in the most dire of situations, such as when her older brothers had been playing with fireworks and burned down the barn, it was still what surrounded them… and defined him.

As the two ponies swayed there, Cupcake told him about all the ponies who had stolen from her father, how his cynicism ruled him and made him see the world in white and blood red.

"He, he loves me, Carrot, loves me as any father does," she said as she moved her head from his withers and once more placed them in the hollow of his chest. "I'm his Little Cupcake."

With that she told him of those days after her mother had begun having her seizures, told him about how her body had begun to fail around her as the magic of the pegasi sought her, sat upon her pegasus genes that lay hidden deep within the earth pony.

In those deep, dark days she had found her father sitting in the living room, staring deep into the fireplace.

"My father doesn't cry, Carrot," she said. "I'm never seen him cry a day in my life, but…"

Quiet had hung around the house, and as she pondered the massive form of her father, he had given a single sob, the feeling of uselessness ripping out of Quarry and filling the room.

She had realized that her father was feeling weak, feeling powerless. These were two emotions that he had fought his whole life to avoid, and now that the mare he loved most in the world was ill, there was no way he could help her, make her well and complete again.

What else is a stallion for?

With that Cupcake had gone into the kitchen, decisive and thoughtful as always, and after an hour, she had brought out two cupcakes. She presented them, one for her and one for her father.

He had gathered his daughter to him and grasped her in a massive hug. As her father had praised his Little Cupcake, there had been the sound of falling stars sliding across a frozen lake and she had felt quicksilver falling down her flank.

It had been worth waking her mother, waking Wishing Well so that she could see Cupcake's new mark. It was only after lying with her mother and father in their bed, happily wrapped in their mutual embrace, that she had realized that she had forgotten to actually eat the cupcake.

As Cupcake and Carrot sat in the doorway, swaying back and forth together in harmony, he realized that her father and he shared at least one thing. They both loved Quarry's daughter, both loved the rose-eyed mare who rested against him lightly.

It was a lunch for the Hay Council today, two weeks after she had begun again with Canapés. She would need to be off soon to the barn where old ponies would stand around discussing things over which she had no interest. Reluctantly she lifted her head from his chest, lifted her nose to him once more.

As he answered, he felt her make the motion that invited that much more. Soon their kisses drew them to one another.

As they did, Carrot fought to drag some of the pain and worry out of her, ask with the feel of his lips for her to surrender some of it, let him take away some of the burden she felt.

As he stood, she looked at him with her wonderful smile. He stood on three legs and watched as she disappeared into the crowded streets of Ponyville.

He watched where she had disappeared for a long time. His kiss had once more failed to achieve its purpose.

The morning rush was over, and as noon approached, he began to put away the baking tools that had dried in the dish rack.

He closed up the display cases so that the few bumbling flies would not find their way to what he had made, to the delicate frostings and glazes that sat glistening on his creations.

With that he put away the mop and instead swept the floor with a broom, carefully catching up all of the dried dirt and dust that lay in the hidden places of his bakery.

With that he flung the broom into the closet so that it rattled around and then fell out upon the floor. He kicked at it, sounds of frustration falling out of him as he did.

He then flipped the sign on the door to "Back in an Hour" and as he cursed and made his way up the stairs.

He trotted straight into his bedroom and threw himself upon the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, maybe an hour, without thinking of anything.

When he did begin thinking again, it was about his failure, his failure to lift that worry from her. She was worried about her father. She was also worried for him. She was worried for Quarry, her father that she loved and was afraid of. She was worried for Carrot, her partner and deepest friend that she loved and was afraid for.

She was worried about them, these two players in "The Game of This." Her fears, hopes, dreams, love… these all coalesced in the form of these two stallions, stallions she was concerned for and troubled over.

He did not want her troubled. He wanted her happy, smiling, and radiant.

He wanted to see the sharp dash of her eye when she was being devious. He wanted to see the way her shoulders came up and the little wicked smile went across her face when she was scheming some small happy scheme.

He wanted to hear the sound of her hooves across these floors, hear her voice calling to him across the kitchen as she became filled with ideas.

He wanted to hear how her day had gone… wanted her to confide everything in him. Wanted to hear her giggles and her laughter.

He wanted to have her near him, wanted her to brush beside him when she was happy, wanted her to lean against his chest and find strength there when she was sad and bothered.

He simply wanted to feel her approach, know that in an instant his nose would be to hers, that soon after his lips would be to hers. The feel of her coat went through him, the feel of her hoof touching to his went over him as he closed his eyes and sighed aloud to the lonely room.

Carrot turned on his side and thought of the times she had wanted him to lie here with him upon the bed, how close she had been. In those moments when she had lain in his forelegs, the reach of their bodies touching to one another— those had been the great reward for him. To feel her so safe with him, knowing that tucked into the crux of his body she had been secure and content.

That was all he wanted from her, that she let him wash the concerns out of her, fill her life with happiness, shelter… love.

That was fading away. He was losing that.

It should have been cathartic for her; it should have been liberating to let him know who his opponent was in the long game she had been playing.

It had not been.

Instead it had been as though her fears were now alive. Her grim vision of this competition between her father and her lover now hovered over her in a thick viscous cloud.

He shuddered to think of how strong it must have been within her this whole time, how often she must have reflected upon images of him suffering under the rage of Quarry. He wished that she had told him sooner, thought that perhaps he had not seemed strong enough…

He was strong. He might not seem it, but he knew his strength. He knew he was strong. It was not a physical strength… but he was strong. He had essentially raised himself, in some senses even kept his mother alive as she had faltered and failed at her attempts to fill the void within her.

He was strong.

He ran his hoof over the side of the bed, knew that no matter how strong he was, it was not going to help.

He would lose her if this continued. Their love was strong, but it would be smothered under her fear, the pervasive fear that even his freely given kisses and his embraces could not lift.

He stood, sighed once more. Before him the damnable letter still lay on the floor where she had dropped it two weeks ago. He looked over it. Quarry's signature now stood upon their relationship like the dead albatross hung around the neck of the condemned mariner. He sighed again and went down the stairs.

He reached for the "Back in an Hour" sign, but the instant he put his hoof upon it, he was caught up in a remembrance.

He looked upon Ivory, sitting there in the sun in front of the window as she spoke with him… told him some of the truths of "The Game of This." In that moment he remembered what she had told him, a promise he had made not to reveal Ivory's entreat to Cupcake.

"To win the game, Carrot," she had said, "all you have to do is be yourself. You're set up to win, everyone in this town desperately wants you to win, I want you to win… Cupcake needs you to win."

Carrot gasped at his own memory, realized how right Ivory had been. As his recollection rolled around, his mouth moved in concert with Ivory's. He remembered her words, only then beginning to truly understand what she had been saying.

"Do not tell Cupcake I said this under any circumstances," she had spoken, Carrot mimicking her forcible, earnest tone. "You do not always have to wait for permission. At times, it could even be fatal. The time will come when to win 'This,' as you call it, you may have to let your love guide you."

As he remembered Ivory's hug, the want and wish she had conveyed for her best friend settled through him. With that, a thought went through Carrot.

He could not always be the pawn, the piece being moved. He would have to make a move, have to be the one to advance the action of the game.

Their relationship could not survive long if she was so worried. She could not endure the façade that she had built. She did not want to keep up the farce, and he knew she would be crushed under it. The longer a lie is drawn out, the worse it becomes, and two years of this would wound her…

His mother's words shot through him, the warning she had given Cupcake as he had hidden in the doorway. Love could be drowned, lost.

No, he would not allow it.

He would risk all on a throw of the dice, make a surprise move. He would save her from her worry, if not through his quiet embrace and soft touch then through the shouts and rage of her father.

He would risk all they had built on a single throw... risk letting it all come crashing down.

Carrot scampered up the stairs, grabbed up the letter, and once more pelted down them. Quickly he turned the sign to "Closed" and threw the door open.

For some reason, he decided on a bathroom break, which would prove fortuitous.

Before stepping out into the afternoon, he turned and looked back over his bakery. Strings of causality leaped out and lay before him in loose tangles, any one of them being the endpoint of what he was now undertaking.

Some ended with him returning to this place a broken, weeping, bleeding mess.

Some ended with her mad at him, begging him to tell her why he had done it, wondering how they could go on with her father mad at them both.

Some ended with him hobbling around this bakery years from this day, leaning upon a cane.

One alone ended with him never returning, ended with shocked whispers outside the door invoking an unspeakable crime.

Yet some ended with him looking into the rosy eyes, feeling her soft kisses planted upon him as her hooves lay across his back. He felt the tender nibble upon his ear and the sound of her giggles echoing around the bakery.

With that vision upon him he leapt, out into the early afternoon.



Quarry was working the garden patch, trying to get the good earth to accept his offerings of the old eggshells. Plants need calcium, or so he was told.

Being as he was an earth pony, Quarry dug deeper, trying to call upon the magic that had served him in business, anchoring him both in times of thought and in times when he was without the calmness that now supposedly floated over him.

Supposedly. In reality, all he really felt was an intense dislike for eggshells.

He was an earth pony. He called upon that connection now, asked the magic to flow through him to the earth, and through the earth to him in return.

As he worked through the garden patch, he simply felt himself digging deeper, feeling him muscles working as his strength played out through the soil.

The garden had been suggested by Ledger and encouraged by Wishing Well. It was an attempt to help him find something to help deal with the wrath that he knew was too far inside him to truly ever be removed.

Instead of the calm that they had assured him would follow when he had begun this project, all he really felt was a bizarre sort of self-consciousness, an embarrassment that came from nowhere as he realized that he had spent nearly an hour in the hot spring sun digging a trench about four feet deep and six long to bury about four eggs' worth of crushed shells.

"Good-good afternoon," came a small voice, one that was familiar and instantly grating. "Go-Good afternoon, Mister Quarry, sir," it rose again. With a sigh, Quarry turned to face the gate.

The face of the Cake colt stood there staring over the fence. Quarry studied the colt for a second. As he did, he saw Cake lift the little paper hat, one he assumed he only wore around his own bakery.

"Cake," he answered, using his rear hoof to move the big metal watering can behind the pile of dirt. His gaze fell over the colt once more, and Cake lowered his hat as he withered.

Quarry walked down to the gate, his dirty hooves thudding across the path. Quarry looked over the gate and down at Carrot as the smaller stallion tried to smile back.

"Ain't never seen you up this end of the city before," spoke Quarry, looking past Carrot.

"No, sir," said Carrot as he gulped a little, "I've only come as-as far as the lamppost, as far as the lamppost or so… don't want to risk you seeing, I mean I don't want to disturb… you, you too much."

Quarry's eyes fell back down on the colt, his grey eyes meeting the green of the colt in an impassive glance.

"What do you want, Cake?" he said in a small breath that washed over Carrot, filling his nose.

"I-I've got, got to ask a favor," said Carrot, knowing right away it was the wrong word to chose. Carrot sensed right away that for this stallion favors were for friends. Business only meant deals, contracts, and backstabbing.

"Or, actually, sir-sir I need your permission for, for something important," said Carrot as he quickly rephrased his words and the grey eyes narrowed upon him.

Rather than continue under the threat of those eyes, Carrot pulled the letter out from under his hat. He held it up in his mouth so that Quarry could see what the conversation was going to be about.

Quarry closed his eyes and gave a sneer. To Carrot's surprise, he turned and walked a few paces back towards what looked like either a garden or a construction project and pawed at the earth.

"I don't talk about business at mah' home, Cake," Quarry said as he looked deep into the watering can. He realized he had forgotten to bring any water. As the Cake colt continued, he put aside that insight as his teeth began to grate.

"I-I'm sor-sorry, sir, but it's really-really important, you see… I-I'd like for you to continue with my loan. I'd-I'd like you to keep it instead of sell it to the new company," Carrot called, having to lift his voice slightly to reach Quarry where he now stood, the tan coat of the older stallion standing out in contrast to the black of the turned earth.

"And why would you want a fool thing like that, Cake?" called Quarry, making a single agitated stomp that left a deep print upon the pile of dirt. "Says right there on the letter why it'd be better for ya' to go with them slick colts…"

"Yessir," answered Carrot, lifting the cap again and placing the letter beneath, "b-but, it's kinda important to me that-that you… that you know I'm res-responsible. It's kind… it's really important to me that you, that you know I keep my promises and that I-I take care of what's important to us both…"

Carrot stopped as he saw Quarry stomp again and turn down the path back to the gate as his newly blackened hooves sounded out loudly.

"Dammit, Cake!" called Quarry. He had always doubted the colt's business savvy, but this was simply too much. Now he would want to go on and explain about how he wanted Quarry's trust for this or that and soon they would be discussing chain stores or "Carrot Cake World Outlet" or some fool notion. It was all the same. They were all the same. He was not going to deal with it… he was gardening.

"You ain't makin' a lick of sense!" he told the colt with his voice just on the safe side of a shout. "If ya' stick with me that'll cost me 'bout four hundred fifty bits! You'll cost yerself more in the end and I ain't goin' tah' listen to no excuses when that bakery of yours goes under 'cause you ain't got no horse-sense!"

Quarry turned and looked back to his garden. As he heard Cake stuttering, he looked at the trench he had dug for the four eggshells. As Cake begun to speak again, Quarry found himself picturing burying something slightly more amber-colored and under-bitten in his garden. He was able to get beyond the image, barely, by the time Carrot spoke again.

"I-I'm not going, not going to fail," he said, sounding ever so slightly more confident then he had before. "I've got a partner who, who is smart… we're-we're going to make it. All I'm asking is that, is that you let me prove myself to you…"

Carrot looked up to see Quarry already back at the gate and breathing heavily as his grey eyes once more fell over him. "Cake," spoke the stallion in a disparaging hiss, "this is the last time I'm gonna tell ya', I don't talk 'bout business at my home! Get back to yer' partner… I'm gardening. Once you've actually learned what 'interest' means we'll take about it. Ya' got a smart partner? Thank Celestia fer' that! Have him explain it to ya', I've got bean plants…"

"Her, sir," added Carrot. "My partner is a mare, the most marvelous one I've ever known."

Quarry missed a step. As he recovered, he smirked to himself. In the six months since he had presented the loan to this colt that was the first line he had not stuttered through. It seems he had hit upon a nerve with Cake.

Quarry turned, his smirk still hanging on his face.

"Well, don't that beat all!" said Quarry in an accusing tone. "Cake's got some baking goin' on in his kitchen! You butterin' up some hot buns, Cake? You too worried 'bout spreadin' yer' frostin' to manage yer' business?"

Quarry smiled a harsh smile, happy to see the colt recoil if it meant he would soon be off. It was always amazing to Quarry that a businesspony who was mixing business and pleasure would flinch when faced with the truth. Quarry wondered if the mare was married… that would be a scandal.

"I wish you hadn't said that, sir," said Carrot with his head still turned and his eyes closed, his head hanging towards the sidewalk. "I really wish that you hadn't said that, Mister Quarry."

Quarry lifted his head. Cake was suddenly not stuttering. Suddenly he seemed almost… offended? Hurt? Defensive? Interesting. Quarry tested the waters, wanted to see how far he could push the colt before he would finally pelt off and give up on trying to fish whatever Cake wanted out of him.

"What's the matter, colt?" laughed Quarry. "You ain't got no trouble comin' around to my house to ask me about business, but when I want tah' know about what yer' mixing up with that mare you…"

"Cupcake."

The name fell out of Carrot. It hung around the fence posts before tipping over and crashing around Quarry's hooves. The name splintered around them into as many pieces as the eggshells that sat nearby.

Carrot opened his eyes and looked up to see a shaking, trembling Quarry. The stallion's mouth hung open and his teeth strained the air as hissing breaths fell between them.

He did not look to the stallion's eyes.

"Cupcake," he said as he closed his eyes, picturing her in his head, "your daughter Cupcake is my partner, sir. We've been working together since we opened the bakery… since before that, even. She was with me when I first set hoof inside, went with me when I went to sign the papers… but, but she's…. she's far more important to me than that. Far more important, sir. We've… we've been seeing each other for almost a year, since before you first met me at the mill… we're dating, sir, close… intimate…"

Carrot opened his eyes. As he looked upon Quarry, he was reminded of something extraordinary he had once seen, something that had stuck inside him since the day he had witnessed it.

One day at the mill, the entire staff had been drawn together on the first floor to witness a test. As Trammel dropped a sandbag, the primary safety mechanism of the mill sprang to life.

The device was simple, and it needed to be. If a life was in danger, a colt or filly being pulled through the machines, then the device was all that could possibly save their life.

As the bag dropped, it pulled brakes into place, and throughout the mill belts came loose, some flopping horribly and all raising a cacophony. Wheels dropped from their active positions into their safety modes, sending a rattling clanging through the mill that bounced off the walls and made the ponies cover their ears.

Outside, the mill wheel came to a resolute and immediate halt. As it did, the water within it splashed about in a white torrent and went streaming along the side of the mill as the power of the river now splashed against the building, the thrum of it reaching them even through the thick wall of bricks.

If Carrot thought that such a horrific collection of sights and sounds could be captured in a facial expression, then the one Quarry now wore represented it fully.

"I want you to keep my loan, so-so I can prove that I can take care…" began Carrot.

He was very quickly made to stop.

Before he could even understand what had happened he felt himself fighting for breath. Beneath him cold stones reached up into his chest and at once a stinging began.

Looking to his chest, abdomen, and legs he saw many tiny scratches. The raw spots soon erupted to blood that shone through his coat in long lines. Carrot felt something on him. As he looked beneath his forelegs, he saw black dirt clinging to his coat as well.

Quarry. Quarry had pulled him over the gate, had bodily lifted him along its surface and had dropped him to the stones in one raging bellow.

Carrot regained his senses just as the vehemence of Quarry's wrath began to settle over him. In the space of seconds, all of the horrors that had shot through his mind since that first day at the mill when he had seen the stallion use his rage now descended upon him.

He tried to go limp.

"You son of a bitch!" called Quarry as he knocked the paper hat from Carrot's head, sending it and the letter tumbling across the yard. "You son of a bitch! You're no different than any of them! No buckin' different than any of the slimy colts, weaslin' into our lives! Just another bastard who is using mah' Cupcake to try to get to me! Comin' around here now acting all sincere…"

"No, sir, please…" began Carrot, trying to make for his hooves. No sooner had he found his way to his hooves then there came another roar.  

Carrot felt himself slam against the gate, heard the long thick metal bars bounce and clang in response to his body being driven against them. He felt himself thrown against them once again as Quarry's voice began to rise higher.

Carrot's head went back as he felt himself shoved upon the gates once more, the force of Quarry's shoves lifting him off his hooves, his head bouncing off the bars with a metallic clang.

Carrot fought for a breath as the stars passed through his vision and he tried to steady himself. It was to no avail. Quarry was upon him, driving him up the path.

"You buckin' piece of crap! What did you tell her? What did ya' do to get away with it?! She knows! She knows all about yer' type! She's had to fight off goat lickers like you fer' years!" spat Quarry. "What'd a mess like you tell her that got to her?! What did you tell her?! What lies did ya' whisper in my Little Cupcake's ears?! How'd a under-bitin', stutterin' prick like you…"

Carrot fell to his knees, hitting his jaw against the stones. He called out in pain, did not know if he had fallen or been kicked. Soon he felt himself being dragged to his hooves.

At once he was amid the turned soil of the nascent garden, trying to stay on his hooves as Quarry raged above him. The stallion was ranting and raging. Inside Carrot a thousand different voices called for him to run, to flee for safety.

One voice stood firm though, told him that this was his stand. It spoke to him calmly as the immense stallion pelted him with his fury and leveled accusations against him.

"You ain't no different after all, no different than any of 'em! I told Paperclip so! Comin' to mah' office with yer' bakin', trying to turn her against me too! You udder sucker! Ya' sheep bucker! Can't expect no better from somepony wearin' a bow tie!"

Quarry lifted Carrot by the cravat and looked down at the colt who he held there, watching as Carrot gasped for breath. "No business sense, no sense in clothes! Goes hoof in hoof, eh, ya' little piece of crap?!"

"Cupcake gave it to me, Hearth's Warming…" he choked, reaching his hooves up to gain leverage across Quarry's as the large stallion pulled at the cravat.

Quarry's mouth came open. He stood aghast and then rolled around. With a single snarl he lifted Carrot again, shook him again and again and again as he hung from his hooves and then dropped the smaller stallion among the dirt of the garden.

"Ain't that somethin, that's a damn fine bit of gardening ain't it? Ain't it! You son of a bitch! How do you think she's gonna like hearin' you came round today askin' for favors, tryin' to use her tah' get somethin' out of me?!"

The dirt clung to Carrot as he tried to lift himself. Instead he felt Quarry's legs sweep beneath his. With a tumble he landed in the trench that Quarry had dug.

"You little bastard! You piece of crap! You leave mah' daughter alone! You leave mah' family alone!"

Quarry stood over him, raging at him once more. He tried to look up, but as he tried to blink the dirt out of his eyes the afternoon sun fell over him and cast Quarry in outline as the foam and spit of his continued anger dropped across Carrot.

"Huh, colt?" he asked as his voice went high. "Where's yer' words now, huh? Ya' wanna stutter yer' way through some explanation now?"

"Please!" Carrot cried. "I'm not like them! I love her! Please, I don't want anything from your family, I just want to…"

"Leave. My. Family. Alone!" brayed Quarry, kicking dirt across Carrot. "Leave us alone!" he called again as he reached for something bulky that stood nearby.

Twice, three, four times something large and metallic bounced off Carrot's head as he tried to turn away. Three, four, five times Quarry banged it off of Carrot's nose, calling out in hissing screams until the blood began to pour.

The colt tried to raise his forelegs to defend himself, but a cursing Quarry held them down with his massive frame. In an instant a rain of eggshells fell over Carrot as he lay in the trench. Finally the watering can itself bounced off of his stomach, driving the air from him.

Quarry lifted himself from the trench and looked back down over the heaving, filthy form of Carrot below.

"You think we're done, Cake?" he hissed, "You ain't even felt a touch o' what I do to most who try to use my family against me, try to hurt mah' family…"

"Please…" came a small voice from the trench.

"… I'm goin' up to the house," spat a sweating, heaving, shaking Quarry, "and there I'm getting' a drink. Then I'm getting' my whip. If yer' still here when I come out…"

With that he trotted up the path, knowing it needless to continue. Cake would run off like the rest. He was nothing special.

So, Cake had been just like them all after all. Scheming, devious bastard. He had kept Cupcake under his spell for a year? That was a sin, a proper sin, and when he told her, she would be hurt. She would be hurt real bad. Mother would hold her, and in time she would heal. In time there would be a colt for her… not one who thought of money, of using her. That hurt him to think about.

As he got his drink, he could not catch his breath. As he sucked down another mug of cold water, he tried to get his heart to stop pounding. He hoped she found the right colt soon, somepony who loved her for who she was, who would never hurt her and who did not want anything from her.

As the ringing in his ears began to fade, he hoped she would do it before he had a stroke or a heart attack.

It was a matter of course, but he grabbed the whip from the closet as he went back outside anyway, just in case the colt was lingering near the gate or was thinking of some explanation. Just like so many others.

"Quarry?" came a still, small voice. He looked around to see Wishing Well in her wheelchair. She looked at him questioningly, looking to where the whip stood in his mouth and then back to his eyes.

He dropped it to his hoof and smiled to her even as more dirt fell from his mane.

"There's a big ole' rat in the garden, Love," he said. With that he lifted the whip once more and headed for the door.

Quarry stretched, felt the sun upon him and took a couple of deep breaths. Gardening had proven quite interesting, even if not entirely relaxing. Still, he had enjoyed pulling the weeds…

His grey eyes settled on the garden. As they did he jumped in surprise.

The Cake colt stood there just beside the garden upon the path. He was dirty, filthy, and bleeding. Even as he stood there the dirt of the garden fell from him, eggshells catching in his mane as he trembled and shook with a palpable fear.

Quarry's jaw slid from side to side as he pondered Carrot. Upon the colt was every discernable mark of fear. The gangly legs shook. From his head to his orange tail, the colt trembled. The teeth inside the underbite chattered, the sound carrying all the way up to the porch. Only a trail of piss running down his leg to complete a scene of abject terror was absent.

Yet, there he stood.

None of the others had been there when he had come back out. Was Cake really that stupid?

Quarry stared out over Carrot, saw the colt's eyes forced shut. As he watched the mouth came open and a familiar phrase came wordlessly from the colt's lips.

"Celestia, help me."

Quarry tilted his head back and forth. He had been about to cry out that the sovereign does not aid liars when a phrase wafted from Cake.

"Cupcake… I'm trying so hard…"

Quarry's jaw shifted back and forth for a few long minutes. With that he gathered up the whip and trotted to where the stallion stood. As he stood before the trembling Carrot Cake, he looked the stallion over, saw how worked over he was. Scrapes, welts, dirt, blood… eggshells.

"You stupid, Cake?" asked Quarry as he wrapped the whip around his foreleg and measured out a good striking length.

"N-Not so m-much, sir," said Carrot, fighting to make the words come.

Quarry shook his head.

"Why in the Well are you still here, Cake? Do you think I'm a liar? Do you think that I won't strip the flesh from yer' hide?!"

"No, sir... I mean yes, sir. I mean, I know you'll do it, sir," said Carrot as he trembled. "Cupcake, Cupcake told me about the other colts…"

"Then, Cake, damn yer' amber hide," said Quarry, fixing Carrot in a gaze so hard and close to the smaller stallion's face that his breath caught in Carrot's nose, "why in the Well are you still here?!"

Quarry stepped back and was amazed to see the trembling, shaking form of Carrot Cake lift itself. He watched as the stallion fought to his full height. Even as the younger stallion shuddered in fear, his green eyes came open and met the grey ones of Quarry.

"Because," came the smaller stallion's voice, fighting past every instinct of self preservation that sat inside him, "because I'm not like them. I love her, sir, I love your daughter… I love Cupcake."

There is no sound in the world of baking like the sound of snapping gingerbread. Carrot thought of that sound as an expression went across Quarry's face that was otherwise unidentifiable.

Quarry's jaw went from side to side as he pondered the younger stallion.

"Please," added Carrot as he stood quivering upon the path, "I'm just, I'm just asking that you believe me, let me prove that…"

Inside Quarry a moment of doubt was replaced by an old instinct. It simply was not possible; there was no way that money and family mixed. He wanted something. He was a convincing liar… that was all.

With that the whip cracked through the air.

Carrot winced and braced himself… and felt nothing.

"I'm telling you for the last time, leave my family alone, Cake!" raged Quarry, gathering the whip back to himself.

"Please," whispered Carrot.

With that the whip lashed out again. This time pain, real and powerful, fell with it as it cracked across Carrot.

Carrot felt the sensation go through him, and at once the sting drove him to his knees. Soon he felt something running down his cheek.

Quarry had been startled, knew that there was something wrong. He had missed. He had only meant one last warning shot to crack above the young stallion. But he had missed, and now he saw the blood trickling down the ear of this odd stallion, the groove where the ear met his head standing wet in the midday sun. He looked upon this stallion who now lay upon his path, not knowing what to do… doubt filling him.

As Quarry looked on, he saw something that sent him reeling back another step. Cake fought to his hooves even as he trembled and drew upon his earth pony magic.

The stallion, Cake, was using his magic, the gift of the earth itself to anchor him there. Cake was using it to give him the strength to face him. Not to launch a futile attack, not flee like all the rest, but simply to stand there.

"Please," asked Carrot as his green eyes flashed open once more, "I love her…I love Cupcake, sir, I love her so much…"

Quarry lifted his hoof. The sound of gingerbread cracking and crumbling sat deep upon his features. Inside Quarry, questions began to arise. What could this stallion want from him, want from his family or Ledger's family, so badly that he was willing to stand there and face his whip?

What could he… Is, is it really possible that he just…

No. No, it isn't. That is not the way the world works.

Quarry lifted the whip again…

"Nooo! No, daddy, nooo!"

The voice lifted to him as a shriek, crossed a thousand miles to reach Quarry as he stood there.

The gate slammed shut, and up the path came his daughter. She pelted to them as the black apron of the catering job trailed out behind her. The eyes of both stallions fell upon her as she stripped herself of it and discarded it as though it were an anchor dragging her down.

"Daddy, no! Daddy not him, please!" she wailed as she leapt at him, literally wrapping herself around his hoof and dragging him down slightly with her weight.

"Cupcake!" he said as he fought to regain himself. "Why didn't ya' tell me!? Why didn't you tell about this?"

"Stop it, stop it daddy!" she said, falling away from him as she tripped over her own hooves. As Quarry watched, her face went wide with fear, sobs beginning to fall from her as she looked upon Carrot. In a second she had gathered up the apron… was holding it to the blood trickling down his face.

Quarry looked on unbelieving as the dark of the apron absorbed the crimson, as she brushed the eggshells from him and said, "Oh Carrot, why did you do this? Oh Carrot!" over and over.

"I'm trying, Cupcake," the lanky stallion whispered in pain, "I'm trying so hard…"

"Cupcake," Quarry said in a demanding tone. "Why didn't ya' tell me that you was workin' with him? He's just come up here and made a fool of himself tryin'…"

"Stop it! Stop it daddy, stop it right now!" she called as she once more trotted over to him, tears falling from her face. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd do this! That you wouldn't believe him! That you'd hurt him!"

An old fear grew in Quarry, the knowledge that he had given his daughter a reason to fear him raising up in a ball that sat in his throat.

"Daddy!" she said while nuzzling beneath Quarry. "He's not like the rest, daddy! He doesn't want anything from me! He doesn't care that I'm round!"

"You're not round," came the voices of two stallions, one firm, the other trembling. Quarry met the eyes of Carrot. Some foreign feeling was growing in him as the gangly stallion still shook and trembled upon the path.

"Please, daddy, please!" she continued, still running herself alongside her father with her voice still high with worry. "Please, he isn't like the rest…"

"He, he just wants tah' get to me," spoke the firm voice of Quarry, his old instincts and the truths he had learned throughout his hard life rising up while fixing Carrot once more in a harsh gaze, "use you to get to mah' money."

"No! No! No!" Cupcake wailed as she once more forcing herself upon his foreleg, trying to get the whip to drop from where it sat wrapped tight to his hoof. "He didn't know, daddy! He didn't know you're my father! Not until two weeks ago! I-I planned so hard, fought so hard to keep him from finding out! To keep you from finding out! Daddy, daddy everyone has been trying so hard… but, but I didn't know about the loan! Daddy, it's my fault, please… please stop hurting him!"

"Cupcake," came the voice of Carrot, and it stuck in Quarry's ears. It was high with worry and concern. The smaller stallion was worried for her… anxious for her.

The sounds of ancient assumptions and scarred beliefs tensing and beginning to falter sounded out through Quarry. At once the old ways rose up and attempted to defend his unhappy view of this world.

"You, you mean you got the whole town, everypony to… to lie to me?" spoke Quarry as his perceptions grew wild. "To hide this from me?"

"Yes!" she called, pushing once more beneath him. Finding her father's nuzzle absent her voice began going higher.

She had lied to him, or at the very least hidden the truth. That was the bond that held Quarry's world together… that was the most important thing. As Quarry listened, she rattled off the names of ponies he trusted, friends who he relied on.

They had all been playing a game, a game whose purpose was to keep him in shadow. A game whose purpose was to let this stallion get closer and closer to his daughter…

… didn't they all understand? Didn't they all see?

Unless…

"Cupcake, Cupcake why would you do this tah' me, to our family?" he said as his voice beginning to fade.

"Because I love him! I love him daddy, I love him more than any other stallion I've ever met!" she wailed. "He's kind and gentle and when I'm near him nothing hurts…"

His eyes lifted once more to Carrot Cake, saw that the stallion had his hoof raised as though right now he were calling to her. It was as though he wanted to draw out her pain as she circled her father, wanted to silence her fear.

He was afraid for her. Carrot was upset by her fear…more afraid for her than he was afraid of Quarry himself. Quarry's jaw shifted back and forth as he looked upon it.

Carrot felt Quarry's stare upon him. He looked to the deep grey of the anger-filled eyes. He found them easier to look within, as though something was fighting there… the hunted look being pressed.

"Please, sir," said Carrot as some of the dirt fell from him, "I love her, I love her more than anything in the world…"

"Quarry! Quarry, no!" came a new voice, one that ripped Quarry's world out from under him. He turned and let the whip go limp as the figure of Wishing Well floated down the path, free from her wheelchair and making small delicate steps.

"Momma! Oh, momma it's Carrot! Daddy's killing him!" came the voice of Cupcake, terribly high with worry, "Oh, momma! Momma, help me!"

Quarry stumbled. His body shook. Wishing Well had known… she knew, knew about this all along. She too had lied, the most important pony in his life had… no, no he would not believe it. There must be another explanation.

He reached for Wishing Well and tried to gather her up. To his surprise she refused his aid. Instead she joined in Cupcake's exhortations. To his utter shock she too began to demand that he listen, tried to make her massive husband listen to the dirty, disheveled, bleeding, trembling stallion that stood nearby.

"Cake," he said as he spun to Carrot, his anger seeming to be fading, "leave, now, before I do something in front of mah' family that I'll never forgive…"

"No," said Carrot as dirt fell through his mane. "No, sir, I can't. Not until you know how… know how much I love her."

Being Quarry means that as two of the mares you love most in the world circle you, this stranger, this interloper, tells you how much he loves your daughter.

Being Quarry means that even as everything you have learned rages at you and demands acts of wrath, you can't move. It means that all the lessons you have learned in your hard life tell you to break him, snap him, that he is a liar… but that the ones you love the most demand you listen.

Being Quarry means that as he speaks about her, you watch his expression go soft. You listen as the thudding slows behind your ears, as he describes how much he adores her… loves her.  

"I-I understand, sir," Carrot said as he looked into the fading expression of the massive stallion, "I understand why you feel the way you do… I, I never had a father, he-he died just before I was born…"

Being Quarry means that he understands what it is like feeling that you need to protect something dear to you, how powerless you feel when you cannot.

Being Quarry means that you can see the earth pony magic growing in him as he speaks of your daughter in tones that you thought that only you could. As he says that he only wants to see her happy, to see her smiling, it begins to rip away at everything you believe about your world.

"Hey!" called more familiar voices. At once the grandchildren were coming up the path. "Hey Mister Carrot! Were you playing in the garden? You're all dirty! Is that grandpa's whip? Was he showing you tricks?"

Being Quarry means that as your eldest daughter Ruby Quartz comes up the path, you see realization flash across her face as well. Soon she too leans in to keep your wrath from growing… and you know that she too is aware of the game, that she too fears you.

Being Quarry means that as dozens of your worst fears are coming to pass, you cannot call on your familiar rage, your old anger. It means that for the first time in forty-two years of relying on your brutality, you are defenseless.

Being Quarry means that as your daughters continue to circle you and beg for your understanding, the monster who is destroying everything you have worked for across the long decades of your life makes excuses on your behalf to your grandchildren.

"Oh, yes!" said Carrot as he tried to hide the blood trickling from above his ear, his nose, and his long scrapes. "We just got playing too hard is all!"

"The name of your bakery is still stinko!" called the little colt.

"Errr… yeah," answered Carrot as his face twisted in suspicion. "Hey," he said, "why don't you guys get your school stuff off and… and, if your grandma and grandpa say it's okay we can play in the garden too."

Being Quarry means that Cupcake leaves your side and stands by Cake as the foals gather around them. With small cheers the foals pelt past you into the house, the fortress you had built for the protection of your family.

Being Quarry means that you now can only beg, that is all you have left.

"Please, Cake, please," Quarry said while his voice broke, "please just go…"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sir," said the gangly stallion as he turned and lifted his foreleg as he had done for Cupcake, "I can't, I just want… I just want to prove to you that I love her. I just want a chance to earn your respect…"

Being Quarry means that the word flies through you, respect, that one word that is all that you have been chasing all your life.

Being Quarry means having to realize that, as Cupcake nuzzles beneath him and shows him her affection, that Cake respects you… respects what you would do for your family.

Being Quarry means that he thinks enough of you that your respect matters.

Quarry lifted his head, saw that the tears that Cupcake had hidden from her nieces and nephew were flowing again, saw Cake drawing his head alongside hers and trying to draw out her pain.

"She's my Little Cupcake. My Little Cupcake," came Quarry's voice, as weak and as withdrawn as any who stood there in the spring afternoon had ever heard it.

"I'd never hurt her, sir," said Carrot as he nuzzled her and lifted his eyes to Quarry. "Sir, I swear, I swear I'd never hurt her…"

Being Quarry means that the gangly stallion had just shorn off all of your perceptions. Cake had just cracked open all of your fears and doubts with sledgehammer blows.

Around you, the fortress you had built was torn away as though he had lifted every board out of the house, as though he had stolen every stone out of the wall you had laid.

Being Quarry means that your head drops under the sincere stare of the gangly stallion. It drops so low that Wishing Well and Rose Quarts give a small cry and attempt to nuzzle you, fearing for you.

Being Quarry means that you surrender, that you give up your rage, your anger… and allow this amber coated stallion into your life. Despite the warnings that still call out within yourself, you greet him in for the sake of your Little Cupcake.


So ended the first round of "The Game of This."


With a massive sigh, Quarry lifted his head once more, felt Wishing Well brushing against him and attempting to lend him her strength. The frail mare stopped and looked up to him with a smile. "It will be alright, my Love," she said, nuzzling her weak frame to him once more, "it will be alright."

Quarry looked at Cake. He was a bleeding, dirty mess.

"Alright, Cake," he said, something of the rumbling voice returning, "let's get ya' up to the house… clean ya' off. We'll have ourselves a talk."

With that he turned and helped Wishing Well back to the house.

Behind him came the happy squeals of his youngest daughter. He could hear their two bodies fall into the garden as she pounced upon him, hear her laughter as their noses touched together for the first time in complete freedom.

Together they stood. As Wishing Well and Quarry turned to watch, something unusual happened. Carrot looked down and seemed to find one of Cupcake's hoofprints in the soft, black earth.

He pressed his hoof next to her imprint, leaving the two prints standing side by side in the warm soil. Soon she had drawn a heart around both.

It was hard for the old stallion to admit, but it made him happy to see it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cup Cake returned to the kitchen in anticipation of an unfolding disaster.

What she discovered there was nothing short of a miracle. As she approached, he began to insert the gift within, began to raise it up on a new foundation, a strong one built of the old interlaced with many shards of what she had thought she would soon be throwing away.

As Carrot lifted the piece into place, Cup Cake took the confectioner's tube and spread a new batch of the thickest frosting around until the foundation was once more in place.

Together they once more stood there, hoof in hoof, as the gingerbread house healed itself.

As she looked up to him, she knew he had made a decision, and that he knew to move when she could not, feared to. She knew that he trusted her to do the same.

It took a lot of her willpower to keep from reaching across the house, to keep from placing her lips to his nose and slowly lick away the frosting that still stood there. Another part of her told him that it was not yet time for such things.

So, as the foundation set, they simply stared to one another, happy in the presence of the other.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As her train pulled into Ponyville station Ivory Script was presented with an extraordinary scene.

True, the banner was magnificent, and the small band that played her favored songs was so very appreciated. These were very much welcomed, as welcomed as the hug of her parents that she fell into as she leapt from the train.

But it was the sight of Carrot and Cupcake standing together, leaning into one another as Quarry stood nearby, that was what made her the happiest.

They had done it, and as she reached for Cupcake, the two spun around happily, each crying and glad for the other.



The party was held at Ledger's mansion, a massive celebration marking the return of his daughter.

Though Canapés was the caterer, it had been made very clear that Cupcake was there as a guest. She was soon to finish the season as a caterer, to leave Canapés who had supported her and return to the bakery alone.

In the weeks that followed, she had been opening more, and Carrot stood in awe of her flowering love.

As the night fell, the lanterns came alight, though not nearly soon enough to keep Carrot from tripping in the darkness and landing in the fountain whose warm waters kept the heat of the day within them long into the night.

He had tried to stand up, but as he had he had felt the touch of her hooves upon his chest. Oddly, he felt her ask for him to remain lying in those waters.

Soon Cupcake was in the water too, sitting above Carrot and looking down over him. As the lanterns came alight, he saw her sparkling in their light, saw the light catch in the waters of the fountain as it trickled around them.

She looked down over him with a blissful gaze and ran her hoof through his mane. With that she lifted her hooves, used them to catch up channels of water in the space between them and then poured them over him.

At first, Carrot had been a little perturbed, but soon he realized what was happening, what she was expressing without words.

She was using the waters to show him her feelings. She was letting the waters that made up her emotions, feelings, and thoughts cascade over him. She was showing him what her love would be like, how he could expect to feel it as she opened up more and more as she grew into her newfound freedom from worry.

The Well of Souls, it is said, is like swimming without being tired. It is as though you were awash in love itself, as though love were waters that surround you and fill you. Waters that you yourself spread through.

As the waters of the fountain splashed around them, she leaned down, drew the water through his mane and across his chest, and then asked for his touch. Soon she asked for his kiss, and with that he answered.

For Carrot, suddenly he understood what the Well meant, wondered if it were even possible to be happier than he was in this moment. For Cupcake the same question lingered as his warmth reached her.

As they painted that scene together in the fountain, their love blossomed as never before, and a breeze caught around them.

"My children," came a voice unheard on that floated upon the breeze, "I am so very happy for you, so very happy!"

"Keep this time, let your love grow," it continued, making the lanterns dance slightly around them, "but know that this is not the end… the game goes on, I'm afraid. The game is not yet over, and there are new players taking the field."

The breeze swirled as they lifted their heads and stared down at one another with tenderness flying between them. The breeze continued speaking in an unheard tone. "I am sorry, but it does. Soon, soon you will find that the world is not what you expect of it… and there will be pain, it will hurt. I am so sorry, but it must be that way… for her, for her to be who she must be. For you to become what you need to be, this is the way it must unfold. But, you will be rewarded, I swear it… just trust to your love, to one another."

The breeze held still and hovered among the lanterns. With that Cupcake lowered herself to him once more. With a divine giggle, the breeze sped off over the grassy fields where fireflies once more lit the world with trails of light.