A Sweet Taste of Cake

by The Descendant

Sugar Cubes

Chapter 12: Sugar Cubes

Suffice it to say, there was a wedding.

Suffice it to say that there were months of planning, that there were serious questions about appetizers and the colors of tablecloths.

Suffice it to say that there was a dress, one made by the studious old dressmaker and her young unicorn apprentice whose detailing was as exacting and as precise as each of the three diamonds of her cutie mark implied.

Suffice it to say that there was a ceremony. Suffice it to say that there was a tearful reunion of Cupcake's sister with her father, the big stallion even wrapping her marefriend in a mammoth hug.

Suffice it to say that there was a ceremony, one of traditional Equestrian tastes.

Suffice it to say that her nieces threw flower petals.

Suffice it to say that there was disappointment that the old dance hall where they had first met had gone out of business and was not available for the reception.

Suffice it to say that Ivory used her new contacts to make sure that the Ponyville city hall was available, and that the colors and buntings of the circular building filled it with color and life.

Suffice it to say that a Ponyville that had long kept the secret of "The Game of This" came out in droves when so invited to partake of the celebration, so much so that Quarry had to offer up bounties for more food and drink. Carrot actually made a profit off of his own wedding.

Suffice it to say the celebration went far into the night, and whereas the nights were becoming chilly as autumn began, it seemed that the entire body of Ponyville crowded into the celebratory space for the warmth and fellowship.

Suffice it to say the crowd made it rather difficult (and in fact impossible) for Carrot and Cupcake to make their departure and enjoy their first night together as a married couple.

Suffice it to say, they were a tad miffed by that.

Suffice it to say that the next morning they were ushered to the train station by their families. After tearful goodbyes and a round of hugs, the bleary couple were ushered aboard the southbound train.

Suffice it to say that as the train rocked them in their seats and the warm light fell in through the windows, she laid her head across his chest. As the fresh air met them, the two were soon asleep.

Suffice it to say that the kindly old conductor laid a blanket across the two as they slumbered together in the seat, knowing that it was probably best that he take the ticket later.

Suffice it to say that when the crosshead on the cylinder shore off, sending a loud cascade of steam hissing out into the afternoon, it startled all aboard the train. The newlyweds were no exception, and they rolled from their seat to the floor in alarm. Cupcake landed upon her husband, their nap firmly interrupted.

Suffice it to say that the train slowly rolled to a stop just short of a small station that sat deep within the swampy reaches of the warm, wet part of Equestria.

Suffice it to say that the ponies of the tiny village were very surprised to have a trainload of visitors. The hamlet opened itself up to the stranded travelers and upon learning that Carrot and Cupcake were on their honeymoon, the entirety of the village came to life.

Suffice it to say there was a large celebration. Exotic dishes of peppers and rice and crawfish were laid out before the guests. Though they were both as far from home as they had ever been in their lives, the two ponies felt oddly at ease.

Suffice it to say that as the spare engine arrived and brought the wounded train up to the station, there were tearful goodbyes and promises of gifts that would be exchanged.

Suffice it to say that the promise was kept and would play out in ways not anticipated by any that waved goodbye on the platform of the station that late afternoon.

Suffice it to say that when the train finally arrived in Port-au-Prance, the passengers were still very much full of the good food and very much tired from their impromptu festivities.

Suffice it to say that as the late night closed in around them, the tired forms of Carrot Cake and Cupcake were slowly drawn through the warm, humid streets of the port city. Her head was in his lap as the carriage drew them along the cobblestone streets as jazz music floated from bars and cabarets.

Suffice it to say that the steward of the hotel had to gently wake them and tell them that the railroad company had sent word, that they were already registered.

Suffice it to say that upon being led to the honeymoon bungalow, the two could only gaze at the splendor. They could hear the wind brushing through the palms around it, could hear the ocean and see the starlight reflected off of it.

Suffice it to say that as these smells reached them, they lay together in the bed upon the screened-in porch and were soon asleep, each wrapped deep within the forelegs of the other, and were so denied for a second night the usual comforts that a honeymoon provides.

Suffice it to say that Carrot Cake awoke late the following morning to the enviable position of having a rather famished looking Cupcake staring down over him…

… and it was not for any meal that she was starved, but for something far more delightful, enticing, and satisfying.

With that he raised his lips up to hers. With small kisses he began to draw them down across her neck, her chest, her barrel. So it was that they spent that first day amid the balmy sea breezes partaking of such delights as would satiate their appetite for the taste of the other's affections, filled a longing whose satisfaction had been denied them for two long nights.

The steward had seen this before. Even though they had placed a breakfast order, the food had gone largely uneaten.

One day of it had been understandable but a second only left him fearing for the health of his clientele. Besides, Port-au-Prance had so much to offer a young couple besides the view from the soft beds of the bungalow. They simply had to eat something… one cannot live on love alone!

Clearing his throat, the steward disregarded the "Do Not Disturb" sign and knocked upon the door.

As he waited, he looked down to the plates, saw that the waffle had been nibbled upon in such a manner that it now resembled a heart. He could not also help but notice that the tooth marks upon it were from two different ponies, one smaller and one larger. He could only imagine that when the two had met at the apex of the heart, that it had set off another situation that had left the breakfast to expire.

He waited as long as he thought polite and then lifted his hoof to knock once more.

Almost as he had done so, the door came open just enough to reveal the form of a rather haggard yet visibly exultant young stallion with an amber coat.

"Hi!" Carrot breathed in a euphoric tone.

"Good afternoon sir," said the steward, "I'm very sorry to interrupt, but seeing as your breakfast went uneaten…"

"Oh, ummm… yeah, we were… occupied," said a blushing Carrot Cake.

"Understandable sir! Seeing as much, on behalf of the hotel we would like to offer you these meal vouchers for dinner at any number of our local eateries," spoke the steward as he produced a handful of coupons from his uniform.

"Oh, wow… thank you!" said Carrot as he took them up, "I really appreciate that!"

The steward smiled.

"Ginger Snap? What would you think of eating in the city tonight?" called Carrot.

"Oh, that would be lovely!" came the joyful, lilting voice of a mare. "Now come back to bed…"

The steward saw Carrot blush some more and look to him with a ridiculous grin.

"I should also like to remind sir that your beverages are included in the honeymoon package, and that you have not yet requested any today," said the nodding steward.

"Oh…oh, we haven't! Iced tea please," said Carrot as he turned back within the bungalow. "Sugar Plum? Would you like anything to drink?"

At the mention of a second name, the steward wondered how many mares the stallion was entertaining. When the same happy voice answered he realized it was a simply another pet name for the same mare who had sang out happily the first time.

"Oh, raspberry iced tea," she sang in a lilting tone. "Now come back to bed…"

"Perhaps some ice water too, sir? I shall bring pitchers of each… we wouldn't want you both to get dehydrated, after all," said the steward with a smile. As Carrot blushed some more, the steward went off into the midday sun, the palms rustling around him.

As he went back down the path, he could not help but smile to himself. They seemed quite happy, that young couple, and why shouldn't they be? They fit together so well, after all.

The pitchers were discovered soon after. Carrot prepared a tray with two tall glasses of the drinks, let a small mountain of sugar cubes gather in a bowl so that they could sweeten their drinks to taste.

He lifted the tray and brought it back out to the hidden porch high above the waters, away from any prying eyes. Cupcake swung in the hammock, letting the warm ocean breeze settle over her. Carrot's eyes fell across her once more as it caught in the wild frazzle of her mane.

He prepared her drink first, asked, "How many sugar cubes would you like, Honey Bun?"

"Two, please," she answered as she turned upon the hammock. She regarded him sweetly as he poured the teas and dropped the sugar and ice cubes within with careful hooves. As he did, she hovered upside down upon the hammock above the tray and the drinks.

He lifted the glass, and to her surprise he touched it to her chest, her stomach, and her neck. The cold raced through her as the ice within the glass chimed out, making her squirm and give tiny happy squeals each time the glass brushed her coat. Her small sounds rose higher as thin wet films fell across her, as the condensation found its way through the blue hues of her coat and met her fair skin beneath.

He pleasantly tormented her so until the ice clattered in the bucket, announcing that time had passed. With that, he looked for a place to put it where she could reach it from upon the hammock. As he did, her hoof lifted and brushed his chest. He looked up to see her gesturing to the already familiar daybed across the way.

Understanding what she was implying, he took her glass and his across the way and laid them carefully upon the table that stood nearby. Jumping upon the bed, he looked up to realize he had forgotten to flavor his own tea.

Carrot put his hoof to his face as he realized his mistake. He looked up to her to see her still upside down upon the hammock.

Her hooves lay at rest upon her, folded down the length of her chest. The twin tones of her rosy mane fell from her, hung loose, and farther down, her rear legs sat crossed at the ankles, lying upon the post and gently moving in a slow motion to make the hammock sway just so…

She looked at him with a look of sublime anticipation, an unending stream of expectancy as she moved her hips back and forth in regular motions, making her body lift and sway even as she lay supine upon the hammock.

"Ginger Snap?" he asked as he laid his head upon the table to ponder his love in her repose. "When you get up, could you bring me a sugar cube? Or two, please?"

Cupcake sat up and looked at him over her shoulder. A devious smile crossed her face. With that she leapt from the hammock and gathered the entirety of the sugar cube bowl by the thin wire handle and carried it across the way.

Carrot watched as she brushed back her mane and then, as though in slow motion, she lowered her head and picked up one of the cubes with her teeth.

She turned and looked at him, the sugar cube resting upon her lips, set just upon her teeth. She moved, but not towards the tall glass of iced tea.

Cupcake laid her hooves across his chest and hovered over him, looking down at him with the rosy eyes that he adored.

She lowered her head and made him make small movements to claim the cube, pulling back in the slightest each time he reached up.

Carrot smiled to her, saw the perfect angles of the sugar cube playing out against the ideal blue of her coat and the white of her teeth.

She lowered herself again, this time without teasing him. His lips met hers, moved against hers, sharing the sugar cube back and forth between them. Each chased it across the tongue of the other until the cube melted away across their lips.

"One cube," she asked with a giggle, her hoof making a small circle across his chest, "or two?"

"Two," he answered, "oh, yes, most definitely two…"

He watched her lift another one, drank in the image of the sugar cube and its corners juxtaposed against the soft curves of her face. One little corner of the sugar cube sat out, calling his lips up to hers once more.

Sugar cube. Corner. The three little words floated through him as they shared the second cube, the taste of the sugar linking them in one sensation of taste.

"I… I think I just thought of a new name for the bakery," he said as he lowered his head back to the pillow. With that she climbed back upon the bed with him and laid herself across his chest.

"That's so wonderful, Carrot," she said as her eyes closed and he stroked her mane. The sounds of the ocean rolled up the beach as Cupcake completed her thought.

"Everything is just so wonderful…"

They enjoyed their dinner in the city. The restaurant was pleasant and located right in the main square. They were seated in a garden and listened to the jazz music that floated over this city as they ate.

They walked back past the old fortress. The gates were illuminated by lanterns that flashed as though in an explosion of colors.

They walked the beach as the sun set. As they watched Celestia lower her charge across the horizon, the night fell. They scampered among the tide, chased the birds and then each other.

She looked back to see that he had stopped his chase and was staring down at something that stood upon the sand.

He raised his head and asked her to return. As she did, she found that his hoofprint was set along one of hers, that it encompassed it. Together the two prints seemed almost as one.

He looked up to her. She smiled as she encircled the two prints with a perfect heart.

Together they walked down to where the waters of the ocean came rolling in, let it wash over their ankles and legs as the last rays of the sunset fell in the west, and they stared out over the broad horizon.

With that they went back up to the sheltered bungalow, hidden as it was among the palms, away from the inquisitive eyes and delicate ears of those who might be enjoying a stroll upon the moonlit beach. Good thing that, as the night was still young and they were very much in love.

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

There is no greater argument for the existence of superpowers than the power of perception granted to mothers.

The tiniest whisper when a child is supposed to be asleep, the faintest cry of pain from an upset stomach—these are all within the range of the ears of a caring mother.

The ability to sense that something is not right, that their child is somehow in danger of harm or hurting themselves… the ability to somehow "just know," these are the gifts given to a mother.

The gift lurched Roxy awake on a brilliant moonlit night in the fading days of autumn. What she sensed as she slowly left Clyde in the warm bed was a feeling that sat deep upon her maternal instincts, something she could not name.

Something was wrong with one of her babies, but she did not know what.

She went down the hallway that separated the two bedrooms on silent hooves, avoiding the familiar weak places that would sound out in wooden groans if disturbed.

The door of the room was already opened a crack. Roxy stared within as a nameless apprehension filled her.

Her eyes swept the room, saw where the figures of Inkie and Blinkie still slept upon their beds.

She found no such comfort in looking upon Pinkie's bed. It was empty. The sheets were thrown wide and no sign of the pink filly anywhere in the room met her searching eyes.

She quickly wheeled around to the upstairs bathroom, saw the door wide and the room unoccupied. Inside a few steps, Roxy was heading down the stairs on quick hooves.

The mother moved from room to room, searching out her missing daughter. As she did, she called her name. "Pinkie?" she whispered, her eyes growing more and more accustomed to the darkness as she searched out small places, darting back and forth through rooms she had already checked.

"Pinkamena? It's… now isn't the time for games," she said even while she sped around the rooms, lifting her voice as high as she dared. "Pinkamena… Pinkie Pie? Pinkie?"

A hundred horrors grew inside her as she sped back up the stairs, looked across the three rooms that stood there in the darkness once more, and then sped back down the stairs with noises of constrained worry.

She was not here. She was not in the house… Pinkie was not in the small, quiet house at all. Worries that only a parent can feel began to rise up in Roxy. Horrible thoughts began to rise as the clock in the hallway began to chime the early morning hour.

She checked each of the downstairs rooms again, looking under the couch, even opening the icebox door and peering within as more and more dread grew behind her eyes. "Pinkie?" she called once more, louder than before…

Movement. A small little motion crossed her eyes, played out at the edges of her vision.

Roxy turned and looked out the window. She stared across the fields of the farm Clyde had built, not believing what she saw there.

Immediately she had grabbed at a housecoat that stood upon an old coat rack, opened the door, and stepped a few steps out into the frigid first hours of a late autumn morning where the moon still hung high in the sky.

A voice reached her. At once her hoof went to her mouth in surprise and alarm.

As she watched, a small horror began to spread over her. Inside of a moment she had pelted back within the house.

She had barely cleared the door when she was aware of movement inside her home, the feel of one of her loved ones awake and moving.

Clyde stood at the top of the stairs and peered down to her. He too had come awake, had sensed something wrong. He had heard the fearful sound of her racing about and calling for one of their daughters.

Clyde too had seen the empty bed… the icy fear of a parent awakening in him as he stared down to her, felt the cold autumn frost sneaking in through the door as she looked up to him with anxiety painted across her face.

"Clyde!" she called in a whispered implore, alarm in her voice, raising her hoof to him.

At once the stallion was crashing down the stairs, joining her as she made for the door.

At once the two were outside. He blinked and tried to force his eyes to adjust to the moonlight. Across the windswept acres of the farm, some movement caught his eye, a shadow that lifted across the tall spire of the silo as a small flicker of flame rose against the black of the night.

He looked on as a figure swayed back and forth, leapt and kicked in a scene more like a pagan ritual than a party.

A party, that is what was happening on his farm. That is what his daughter was doing out of her warm bed, here in the first hours of a frosty autumn day that still lingered in the blackness of night.

Pinkie's voice came crackling and uncertain. It was still her, still their daughter, but it was as though she was thin and drawn. As they approached her, they saw her dancing… or, at least, attempting to dance.

Her voice rang out, and she sang… or, at least, attempted to sing.

"Pinkamena?" came her mother's voice, and at once the little filly turned to face them. Her colors went into stark relief as she turned into the darkness. Her shadow fell from the silo as a small birthday cake, one that seemed to be hastily thrown together, sat before them alight with dozens of candles.

"Hi momma! Hi poppa!" she said as she trembled in the cold. "Did you come to celebrate the silo's birthday too? We never threw the silo a birthday and I woke up and said 'Hey!' we've never thrown the silo a birthday party and today could be that day! I mean any day could be the day but I don't know so I chose today because…"

"Pinkie," he father interrupted to little effect.

"… I was awake, and I saw the silo and I thought that I could figure out when we built the silo and that could be it's birthday…" she continued, unaware of their growing looks of worry.

"Pinkie Pie!" her mother scolded, her voice full of worry.

"… and I guess we should have one for the barn, the windmill, and the house too because we don't want them to think we don't love them and they might get jealous and there's nothing worse than a jealous windmill and…"

"Pinkamena!" roared her father, his voice echoing off the silo, drifting down over the deep acres of his farm.

Pinkie went stark still, her expression dropping. For one of the very few instances in her life, she looked upon him as he glared at her in anger, his face creased and his ears back beneath the black hat.

"I… I just wanted to…" she said as she trembled, the candles upon the cake tossing in a cold autumn wind that dove upon them.

Slowly her two parents came up to her, stood around her, and blocked the wind from reaching her.

"Pinkie Pie," he said as he lowered his head to her, his expression stern and set with concern. "Your mother was terrified. She woke up and you weren't in your bed… she ran through the house calling for you. What if you'd gotten lost, or hurt?"

Pinkie rolled around and looked up to her mother. "I'm, I'm sorry momma…"

"Pinkie," said her mother, "you know better… it's, it's two o'clock in the morning, dear! It's so very cold! You… you're trembling…"

"I am?" asked Pinkie, seemingly unaware. The filly looked down across her own legs, saw them shake in the moonlight.

"I-I am trembling! I am cold! I'm cold!" she said, darting about in place. She quickly blew out the candles upon the cake and wrapped herself around the leg of her father. With that, they went back to the house in the darkness.

Together the three climbed the stairs, the shaking form of Pinkie still huddled to them. To their surprise, Inkie stood at the top of the stairs, the filly hiding behind the doorframe to her room.

"Momma, poppa? What's going on?" asked the drowsy filly, looking upon her parents and sister fretfully.

"Nothing, dear," said her mother while planting a kiss upon her head as Clyde guided Pinkie towards their room, "go back to bed, my Love…"

Pinkie lay between them, the heat of their bodies warming their filly as she fell back to sleep. Roxy cuddled close to her filly and husband. She soon returned to sleep, her maternal superpowers having been satiated.

For Clyde though, sleep did not come for a great long while. Now his paternal instincts were at the fore, and there was no answer soon in coming.

Something was wrong, something that her mark wanted… something that had driven her from her bed and into the frigid night.

Something he did not know how to provide.

Clyde closed his eyes and wondered if there was not anything he could do. He sat up, looking across his loved ones until sleep found him, and he lowered his head back to the pillow.

Outside, the moonlight shone. No voices carried on the wind that drove the dry autumn leaves across the farm.

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

The bowl of thin wafer candies stood there upon the table.

As it was something of a tradition between them, she selected one and lifted it with her teeth so that it rested lightly across her lips.

As the warm, sweet smells of the bakery of Sugar Cube Corner lifted around them, Carrot Cake and Cup Cake reenacted the moment of inspiration that had given the bakery its name.

Carrot saw the thin round disk sitting upon her tongue, between her lips.

In a long motion he leaned in, held his lips to hers, let the disk melt as they passed it back and forth between them. Together they shared the taste of the candy just as they had shared a sugar cube that had long, long ago dissolved but whose taste had lingered for these years and decades.

Years that were sometimes happy, sometimes sad… sometimes trying.

This was just one of the many happy little traditions that accompanied the construction of the annual gingerbread house.

She watched as it came closer and closer to being complete. It truly now looked like their great work that was so often purchased months in advance, or some years, was even bid upon for charity.

This year it had a special purpose, this year was special. This Hearth's Warming, the gingerbread house was meant to symbolize that much more.

She turned back to the oven and removed the dozen figures that sat awaiting decoration, the residents of the gingerbread house.

She looked back to Carrot, giggled as she saw the great white dollop of frosting still sitting across his nose.

This year was turning out special indeed…

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

It was to Cupcake's great joy that her nieces and nephew had taken to calling him "Uncle Carrot" so quickly. They had moved without question from looking at him as "Aunt Cupcake's friend" to "Aunt Cupcake's coltfriend" to "family."

Their acceptance of Carrot was as complete and total as if he had been a part of their lives for one thousand years, their reception of the gangly stallion as total and whole as only a child can offer.

Cupcake helped her oldest niece wash her hooves free of the dough as Carrot helped the colt place the trays of cookies within the great warm oven, the colt being amazed by the rows of blue flame that sat within.

Carrot walked gingerly to avoid the little form of his youngest niece, the one who walked beneath and beside him as though she were a puppy rather than a mature and grown-up filly of six long years.

As she smiled at the sight, Cupcake looked out the window, saw how the cold, deep part of winter had once more arrived.

Here inside the warm bakery she thought of how almost a year before, she had almost run from this bakery in fear, how she had almost let herself become consumed by dread and apprehension. Her fear was gone. Now the weak-jawed stallion sat in the showcase room with his hooves over his eyes, counting as her nephew and nieces tried to hide amongst the counters, stands, and racks in a game of Hide-and-Seek.

She wondered what would have happened if Carrot had not tripped down the stairs, if her first instinct had not of been to reach for him and see to his hurts. Would scenes like this have happened? Would they still be dwelling in that dark netherworld of not knowing? If he had not taken a risk… trusted to his love…

She took the cookies out of the oven as peals of laughter erupted from the showcase room. Looking within, she saw the gentle hooves of her husband employed in defending himself from attackers who seemed intent on tickling him… he answering their attacks in kind as they fell over him, slid down his flanks and rested against him before renewing their assaults.

Cupcake giggled to herself as the winter outside grew deeper, darker… yet the warmth that flowed from the laughter in the next room drove thoughts of the cold far from her.

After the children had decorated their cookies, they all had washed the dishes. Cupcake though finished them, drying them as the four once more returned to the showcase room.

Cupcake found herself staring out over the cooling rack as a dozen foals smiled back at her, each wildly colored and overly decorated. The cookies were each a picture of happy children, ones that seemed so very alive, joyful… as joyful as Carrot was making her sister's foals.

Inside Cupcake something moved. A feeling grew, and with a breath she pondered it, let it swirl around as the winter wind rattled at the windowpanes.

She saw the flash of a vision, saw herself standing over a cradle, singing a lullaby as her husband stood nearby.

She went to the doorway, leaned against it as she pondered the scene before her.

Carrot was doing a dramatic reading of a cookbook. Her youngest niece sat beneath him, tucked into his lap with her head resting upon his forelegs as he sat, her eldest niece and her nephew leaning against his flanks as he read.

Carrot lifted his distinctive voice, giving characters like "nutmeg" and "baker's chocolate" elaborate back stories, had them do battle with mixing spoons and escape the clutches of evil egg beaters.

She smiled as he sent his ingredients off on adventures across scorching ovens and through the wilds of kitchens. Carrot had them find the lost treasures of jelly fillings and frostings, the foals hanging on his every word.

Her mind went to a wide number of places, saw boxes of unused diapers, clouds of baby powder.

The bakery was doing fine, they… they were not going to get rich, but they were not going to starve by any means. They were happy, they loved one another… there… there was no reason why they couldn't…

"Please," she whispered to the magic of Equestria, "I'm ready for this, I want this…"

Her eyes settled back upon Carrot. A smile settled over her as he completed his narrative.

All too soon, Ruby Quartz had arrived. The foals gathered their cookies into paper bags and said their goodbyes. Amid the kisses and hugs, the youngest niece had been reluctant to leave, wrapping herself tightly to her aunt and uncle, only their promises of visits whenever she wished making her finally relinquish her hold.

With that the bakery went all too quiet again. Far too quiet for Cupcake's liking… for her wish.

Carrot stood in the kitchen, wiping down his equipment, whistling as he did so.

"Carrot?" he heard her say, her voice soft and full of questions. He had not heard this tone from her before. It caught his attention and drew him to his wife.

"Ginger Snap?" he asked. "What's up? Something wrong?"

"No… no, nothing's wrong," she said sitting there before him, waiting as he too put aside his tasks and sat with her upon the warm kitchen floor.

"I…" she began after taking a breath and looking up to his green eyes, "I think we should start thinking about… thinking about having a foal."

"Okay," he said. Her words had barely left her. She startled and looked back to him with puzzlement.

"Really?" she asked, "I mean, we should really start thinking about what it…"

Carrot stuck his tongue out the side of his head. He took off his cap, ran his hoof under his chin and gave an intellectual hum.

"I just thunk," he said, looking back to her with a grin, "let's have a foal."

"Carrot!" she said as she stood, looking at him as though she did not believe he was treating it as the weighty matter it was. "I'm serious! Please, I…"

He lifted his mouth to hers and drew her into another kiss, one that called her back down so that she sat with him again, moved her closer to him.

He looked at her with a smile still upon his face. At the same time, earnestness sat behind his eyes.

"Cupcake," he said as she laid into his chest, the place in her world where she felt the safest and most secure, "I am serious. I-I was going to ask you what you'd think about getting started at trying to…"

"Really?" she asked, her smile so evident that he could feel it lift upon her as she sat there pressed against him.

"Yes," he said as he lowered himself to plant a kiss upon her head. "Have… have you asked the magic yet?"

"Yes," she answered, "just… just as you were playing with…"

"Please," she heard him say with his voice just above a whisper, yet firm and resolute, "I want this. I am ready for this."

As soon as he had finished, she repeated her earlier implore, nuzzling beneath his chin and against his chest as she spoke the words.

It was entirely symbolic, at least the words, but what it meant spoke volumes.

This then was their wish, that this would happen, that they could have this for one another.

So began the second round of "The Game of This." With that more strings of causality looped around them… some moving in ways that they had perhaps not expected.

She lifted herself and stared up to him. She took deep breaths, her heart skipping as he lowered his nose to hers. As the two rubbed them together in long slow circles and figure eights, the sensation of their touch fell through one another, filling the other with well being, love… hope.

"Then-then we, then we should get started," she said as a giggle lifting through her.

Carrot's eyes shifted back and forth, pondering his kitchen with a wicked smile.

"You mean, ummm… right here?" he said as he looked back to her with a wink.

Cupcake put her hoof on his chest, rolled her eyes and then stood. "Oh Carrot!" she said while she turned towards the showcase room, looking back at him over her shoulder. "You're insatiable!"

He met her rosy eyes and gave a great smile. "Only because you're so beautiful, Sugar Plum…"

He followed her as she began to walk, watched her steps become bouncing ones that revealed her own anticipation.

"How about here?" he asked as he pointed out a long display case. He listened to her giggle, felt himself lift in the music of it.

"How about here?" he inquired, pointing out the seldom used closet by the door, her laughter growing with each suggestion.

"Here? Here? Here?" he implored as their hooves made soft sounds across each of the steps that led to the second floor and the bedroom beyond.

Her laughter stopped as they reached the top of the stairs. She felt his hoof trace the length of her stifle and gaskin. She looked back and saw him draw himself up; ask her to return to his embrace.

As she did, she felt him lift her, carrying her in an unponylike fashion. He used his body to open the door, let his frame fall back and close it gently.

With that he laid his wife, his love, upon the bed and looked down over her body.

"Wherever you want to go," he repeated as a memory reached him, "I'll go there with you."

As the winter wind swirled around the bakery, the place where they both wished to go was towards making their love manifest, bring into this happy world of magic and sunlit days a little pony that they could cherish.

She called his body over hers, guided his face down to hers, and with that, they went as one down that path.

Comments

[SuperPinkBrony12]

Hm so maybe Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake weren't the Cake's first attempts at family?

[thewaffler]

My only issue was "Suffice it to say that"- that was a little annoying like Chinese water torture. On the positive side, I learned that the name Sugar Cube Corner: A) It isn't some innocent name. B) It has nothing to do with baking or street locations. C) It was indeed Carrot's idea. D) It Came about through a hard night of f****ing in a resort hotel.

It's also nice to see that Cupcake's family has accepted Carrot.

I really like this fic and even if I already now the ending and how their first tries at conception are gonna fail and create drama/sadness, just because of the time setting, but like I said it's the journey not the destination that matters.

Peace Out.

[twilightsparkleisbestpony]

so they won't have their own children for years later? bummer. then again, a filly pinkie pie is probably enough to take care of.

[djthomp]

I shall never look upon the name Sugar Cube Corner the same way again!

[The Descendant]

547521
No, no they weren't... and we'll se what that means for their marriage and their future in the next few chapters... ...

547603
There's a lot of things that I'd like to see made canon... but if a certain statement made deep in amore' in a seaside resort was the only one that ever got into the series I'd probably spend the rest of my life with a certain satisfied smirk on my face.

Sorry about the "suffices", but "Being Quarry's" had gone over so well that I thought it would work again...

Thanks for coming on this long strange trip... ...

547645
They are going to come to an important conclusion next chapter... ...

547860
Then my work here is done!

[Material Defender]

[The Descendant]

549604

[Red Fox14]

Apart from the fact that I'll never again be able to hear the name Sugar Cube Corner without my right eye twitching violently, I regret nothing. Great job on this chapter, it's too bad Blues wasn't there to fix up the dance hall, though I'm sure that town hall was just as good. Can't wait for the next chapter!

[varilla111]

this fan art wasnt long enough

[The Descendant]

550628
The only thing I have to say about that is at this time Blues was still a kid in Manehattan... and that we have quite a few years left to go in the story!

551223
My apologies. We have five chapters left to go.

553241
I'm very glad that it came through as a surprise!

[TheBaraclough]

First off I just want to say I've been really enjoying this story so far. I haven't read it all yet because I've been reading it fairly slowly but I've been enjoying every moment of it :twilightsmile. I read this a while ago but just remembered I wanted to point something out to you.

"Suffice it to say there was a large celebration. Exotic dishes of peppers and rice and crawfish were laid out before the guests."

I know that MLP:FiM completely throws actual horse biology out the window but one thing they do try to keep up with is the fact that they don't eat meat. It's nothing major but I didn't see anybody else mention it so I just wanted to make sure you knew about it .

[Csquared08]

So when they were on their honeymoon, "What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong came on. Seemed very appropriate.
"Everything is just so wonderful…"
Yep, that confirms it. Very appropriate

I think I may be able to make a firm decision on this fic next chapter...

[Alchemystudent]

Wait, Crawfish? Swampy? OH CELESTIA THIS WAS A PREDICTION!

Anyway, the lovin moments, I have to say those were some of the most erotic I had read without being entirely sexual. I love the origin of the name of the bakery, but I have to think...Pumpkin and Pound probably get weird looks when they ask the name of the store and how they got it.

But, what I want to touch on is...Pinkie's family. This interpitation is the one I use the most, not one of abusers or ponies who couldn't accept her, but of proud loving parents that want to help in anyway, but can't. I love watching this relationship flourish and grow.