Twice Upon a Mattress
Chapter 13: Twice Upon a Mattress
The gingerbread house was coming together. Only a few major elements remained to place in play, the shingles, the sidewalks, the wintry trees bestrewn with candy that spoke of decorations.
And, of course, gingerbread ponies as well.
Carrot looked up and awaited her return with the decorated denizens of the project. He tilted his head as he saw her standing over them. At once a small sound reached him, one that made him sigh.
Carrot trotted the length of the kitchen to where she stood beneath the window. There a countertop arrayed with all that a properly dressed gingerbread pony could desire sat awaiting her use.
Most were done. They sat upon a cooling rack waiting for their turn to be added to the project.
He could already guess what had brought her work to a standstill, what had made her stop in the midst of their project.
Right in front of Cup Cake stood one little gingerbread pony, a foal that stood there incomplete under her gaze.
Her sighs rose to meet him as he sat beside her. Outside the window, families were going by… earth pony families, pegasus families, and unicorn families all trotted past. Happy families made up of mares, stallions, and foals… families that had foals.
He nuzzled her. As she leaned into him, she was careful to avoid the frosting that still sat upon his nose.
Together they sat in the brilliant sunshine and watched families go by that included the one thing that had eluded them, the one part of the puzzle that had not come into play…
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Being born an Equestrian of any of the three races means that you are a magical creature, one raised in a magical land and one that sees magic as commonplace.
Your daily life is filled with magic. Magic makes light appear in darkened rooms with an audible snap. Magic runs the devices that make your life so easy; magic makes it possible for you to watch movies, to run sewing machines, to power blenders and mixers.
The very fabric of Equestria is alive with magic. Magic is a part of the very fabric of all that has surrounded you since your birth. Rock farmers, those studious geoculturalists, gather magic from the very earth. Vast dams capture the magic that swirls within the waters that rush through the land.
Overhead clouds guided by magic sit in your sky, and the very sun that shines down upon you would still be on the other side of this little world if an alicorn who is the living embodiment of deep magic had not slid the world around its axis that morning to meet the warmth it provides.
To the Equestrians, magic is a part of life. It is a part of their day.
It is, in point of fact, a part of themselves.
To be an Equestrian Pony means that you are a magical creature. You know this. You understand it and it is no more surprising to you than knowing that you have ears or hooves.
True, the magic differs from pony to pony. Unicorns drape themselves in it, waft it around in visible auras of color and light, perform great spells with it that amaze and terrify.
The pegasi wear their magic as part of themselves, channel it through their wings to gain the flight that defines their race. They use it to shepherd the clouds, lift the waters, drive the rains and snows before them, and move the weather that a dark magic long ago denied this magical land.
The earth ponies keep it still and quiet. They wear it as a badge. To them the magic is internal and defining. It flows from the land and into them and from them back out into it, giving them their resolve and fortitude. To an earth pony, magic is personal. Their strengths are fueled by it as much as they fuel it, return it to the land that gives them their name.
There are other magics, magics that sit inside each Equestrian as much if not more than those that define the races.
The magic defends you against magical diseases, keeps you safe from drifting bits of magica vasto that could harm you if you were on the downside of your luck.
The magic helps you learn. Sitting astride you as your mark, the magic guides you through your life, accompanies you until your dying day. It is your companion. It is your friend through your life from the moment of your conception and even before that.
The magic is responsible for your birth.
It is a truth spoken to foals whose curiosity about where babies come from has gone beyond what the old pleasant lies about magic mirrors can supplicate.
"Oh! They come about through magic!" speak their parents in half-truths, leaving out the icky discussion about biology that most certainly is also required to begin a new life.
Yet the magic is fundamental to it. It must play its part.
Being an Equestrian Pony means just that… that you are a Pony, not a pony.
You are ruled first by thought, then by your magic, and lastly by your biology. You answer to intellect, not instinct.
You are not some wild soulless prey animal who mindlessly goes a whole year eating grass and running away at the slightest hint of danger before the few days of estrus take control of your mind and force you to procreate.
Your mother did not suddenly go into "heat" and stand whinnying on a street corner to be serviced by a stallion like some feral beast of the field.
It is a gift given to the Equestrians, that as much as a child must be conceived by biology that the magic too must be answered. Magic is as just a fundamental a part of their lives as having a heart, a mind, and lungs.
As every adolescent who has ever had to sit through embarrassing movies in health class knows, the magic must be asked to join the efforts of a couple to produce a child, must be welcomed into the hearts of both before the biology can play its part.
That is all it takes, for the magic to be asked. With that an act that was once simply an act of pleasure and intimacy shared between two ponies was now that much more… the magic awakening parts of the mare that, while ready for their function, had not been asked to perform it.
That is the great gift given to the Equestrians, that no child is unwanted… that each is in fact pleaded for.
That was what Carrot and Cupcake had done in the kitchen that day. They had spoken it aloud, said it to themselves, and promised it to each other… admitted aloud that this was now their wish.
The magic would have known if they had not said it. Even if longed for within the heart, it knows. It knows many things. It must decide.
Soon books had begun to appear around Sugar Cube Corner, one with names like "Naming Your Baby," "Choosing Your Baby's Name," and "How in the Well to Guess What in the Buck Your Baby's Cutie Mark and Special Talent are Going to Be so You Don't Saddle the Foal with a Ridiculous Name for the Rest of Their Mortal Life".
Catalogs appeared, ones that featured an array of educational toys, ones that featured an array of devices and other instruments that Cupcake pondered with increasing interest.
"Please," she repeated, "I want this. I'm ready for this."
After days of consideration, Cupcake had finally designated one room, the one at the farthest end of the hall that the sun kept nice and warm, to be the nursery. With that Carrot had spent whatever time he could moving the furniture, painting the walls a nice happy color, and laying some fine new carpet.
Of course once he had done all of that, Cupcake changed her mind and designated the middle room, the one closer to their bedroom, as the nursery. With that he once more used whatever time he could during the day to once more moving the furniture, once more painting the nice happy color, and once more laying the fine carpet.
"Please," he said aloud to his tools and the unused portion of the carpet, "I want this. I'm ready for this."
Soon their secret was out. The news that they were trying to have a foal reached all levels of their family circle and deep into their network of friends.
Soon Cupcake found herself being told what foods she could eat to help her chances, how to do odd things with her hips after their attempts, what exercises she should do. Her mother even volunteered to make her a special soup made of herbs that she was pretty sure were only useful as decorations and for repelling mosquitoes.
All of these sounded like old mare's tales, and she looked at each with deep disbelief.
As a month of trying had become months, she had tried them all religiously.
"Please, please, please," she begged aloud, "I'm ready for this, please, I really am…"
He too began reading articles in the backs of magazines that he would never usually consider perusing. He found one article that announced that mussels would assist his potency. This only resulted in him spending one night monopolizing the bathroom as he discovered his intolerance for certain shellfish.
When his small circle of friends found out what he was attempting, first came the usual innuendos about the "hard work" he was doing. Soon after came the genuine advice.
One of Carrot's friends, whom already had several children, delivered a certain box wrapped in brown paper to Sugar Cube Corner. Upon the box was a note that promised that all the items within were guaranteed to work.
Upon peering within the box, Carrot and Cupcake looked at one another with mounting skepticism.
As their nightly attempt drew near, he stood in the bathroom and looked at the contents once more.
To him it all appeared to be hooey. As he lifted each device a look of deep doubt fell over him.
Yet months had drawn on to seasons, so he determined to try them all.
"Please, oh, please," he said aloud, "I want this so much. I want it for her, for us…"
A few minutes later, Carrot peeked out of the bathroom at her. He then slowly revealed himself.
Upon him stood all sorts of gadgets and contraptions that promised to assist in every aspect of the magical and biological components of conception.
As he walked to the bed, he jingled and jangled, chimed and tweeted as metal and plastic and latex spun and flapped. A dozen or so devices covered him, all of them twirling, twisting, and making insincere noises.
He stood at the edge of the bed with uncertainty painted across his face. Misgivings played out upon his features as something whirred and something else vibrated enthusiastically.
They stared at one another for a long time, stared across the reach of the bed as the contraptions flipped and flopped, beeped and bopped.
As Carrot stood there, he saw Cupcake's hoof come up to her mouth. An emotion spread behind it that she was trying to hide, was fighting to keep within.
He raised his hoof and stepped forward, worried that she may be upset or even scared.
However, as he buzzed and binged and various components of his ensemble began to shake and flutter, she lost control of her emotion… and began to laugh.
She had been trying to hide her laughter, trying not to embarrass him. It was too much, the sight of her husband like that. He was adorned so ridiculously. He was trying so hard, was willing to make a fool of himself for her… for them.
He watched her laugh as a smile spread over his own face, happy to see her this way.
She leapt to him, and together they laughed at the absurdity of it all as the gadgets tooted, tweeted, and quacked. The ponies though simply rocked one another, kissed and looked into the eyes of the other as all sorts of lights went off, and as small spinners spun.
"I'm trying, Sugar Plum," said Carrot, rocking her as something sprung upon his head and confetti fell over them, the purpose of the damnable thing beyond either of their guesses. "I'm trying so hard, for this… to do this…"
"I know," she said while brushing the confetti from him and kissing his cheek, his neck, his chest. "I love you so much… don't stop trying. We can do this…"
After a moment of deliberation, they decided that the apparatuses Carrot was covered with could have a more practical use. Together their imaginations crafted a delightful bit of impromptu theater. Carrot portrayed a creature from another world, one that carried her off to slake his alien drives as she swooned in his forelegs.
While not the intended use of the dubious devices, they both had to admit later that it certainly was an enjoyable and entertaining way to fill the evening.
Weeks later the contraptions sat in a nearby garbage can. Cupcake stood in the same bathroom, not noticing them as she contemplated her own body and tried to feel something within her.
She took deep breaths, tried to see if she was sick.
To her continued frustration she was not. She was not getting sick in the morning.
She looked at herself in the mirror, saw the awareness growing behind her eyes that she was not using the bathroom more than usual.
She had no odd cravings.
There were no new stretch marks upon her, no red lines hidden beneath her coat.
Her body had not changed. It gave her no sign that she would soon have to wear a nursing dress in public. Her body gave her no sign that her abdomen was growing any larger than her usual roundness.
She was not pregnant.
Nine months of trying and she still was not pregnant.
She had done everything. They had tried so hard… Carrot was trying so hard. They'd made time. They had made preparations and planned everything.
She had said Invokes, said them over and over…
Why was she not pregnant? Why?
Why, why, why!
"Please, please!" she called aloud as she spun around. She kicked at a pile of folded towels and pulled the washcloths off the rack.
At once she began to cry. She let the tears roll down her face as she spun around like a wild horse, bucking and kicking as she made unhappy sounds.
"Please!" she demanded, raged as shampoo bottles crashed to the floor and the shaving cream can flew across the room.
She stood there for a minute regaining her breath and letting her face sit upon the rumpled towels.
With one hoof held over her mouth, she went pelting awkwardly down the stairs and into the bakery proper.
Carrot was just finishing up waiting on a customer when she came galloping up to him. She grabbed him by the foreleg and began pulling him towards the kitchen.
"Honey Bun?" he said as she pulled at him with her gaze upon the floor. He nodded to Breezy as the stallion doffed his cap and then went out the door, perhaps knowing that something was about to transpire that was beyond his right to hear.
She pulled him to the kitchen, sat him down in front of the fireplace and pushed deep into his chest, desperately seeking the comfort that always waited for her there.
He wrapped his forelegs around her and cradled her. He rocked her for long minutes before speaking to her.
"Ginger Snap?" he asked in quiet tones. "Are you okay?"
She began to speak. She tried to tell him about the new worry that filled her, but instead the words fell from her mouth as a warm huff of emotion that stayed upon his chest. The warmth remained there as she wiped her face upon him and tried to speak again.
"Carrot," she said as her voice broke, "we need to go and see a doctor."
Carrot rocked her back and forth some more and drew her tighter to him.
"Okay," he said as he rested his head next to hers, "okay."
A week later Carrot sat upon the cold examination table. The thin sheet of paper that sat upon it did not protect him from the chill that came up from the metal surface in the slightest.
He sighed as he looked around the room, the various charts and models of various dangly bits of reproductive tracts signaling very loudly that he was indeed sitting in a fertility clinic.
He sighed again and rubbed his eyes. As he did, he whispered a small Invoke.
"Please," he said as he stared at the door, "if-if it is something wrong with one of us… please, let it be me."
Silence hung around the room. The various models and diagrams seemed to brood over him, seemed to be questioning his stallionhood. He let them mock him. He only just sat there and begged that it was his fault… that she would not have to blame herself.
With that the door came open, the doctor nodding to him as he took a seat and laid some more charts before Carrot.
"Well," began the doctor as he removed his glasses, cleaning them with a fine terry cloth as they hung inside the blue aura of his magic. "Your count is in the normal range, and the percentage of healthy gametes are well within average."
Carrot's heart sank. With that he swallowed hard and felt himself began to ask a difficult question for any stallion.
"It's… the reason we're having trouble, then, it couldn't be because I'm, on the… that I'm rather kinda on the smallish…" sighed Carrot.
The doctor quickly interrupted without looking up from where he polished and cleaned his glasses.
"I assure you, Mr. Cake," said the doctor, his calm professional demeanor not falling for a second, "that there is nothing about you biologically that is preventing you from having foals."
"Oh no," spoke Carrot, his little words sliding out over models and diagrams, "Cupcake…"
"Whereas you're both here to discover why you are having trouble with conceiving it does not break my doctor and patient privilege to tell you…" began the doctor, waiting for Carrot to finish swallowing in anxiety.
"… to tell you that your wife is entirely healthy as well, that there is no biological reason why she can not have a foal," he finished as he still worked furiously at his glasses.
The two stallions sat there in the room quietly: the doctor battling with a smudge, Carrot simply in a haze of thought.
Carrot wondered what types of things a fertility clinic doctor might get on his glasses that would stain them so. Carrot shook his head to drive the thought from him.
"Then, oh, then," stammered Carrot as he gave voice to the simple truth that hung there in the room, "it… it has to be magical, right?"
The doctor finished cleaning his glasses and placed them back upon his face. He blinked and turned towards Carrot.
"Yes," said the doctor as he painted a professional smile and gathered up some of the clipboards he had brought with him, "that is the only other real reason that presents itself… and, unfortunately, it's the one we can do the least about."
The doctor flipped through some of the papers and drifted his magic across the room to gather up a pencil.
"Let me ask you some questions about your personal magic, Mr. Cake," said the doctor as he began to scratch away, "You do wish to have children, yes? You've internalized that?"
"Oh, yes!" answered Carrot. "Just the other day I caught myself rocking a loaf of bread I'd baked like a foal in my arms and singing it a lullaby!"
Carrot mimicked his actions as a great smirk went across his face. To his surprise the doctor joined in his pantomime, lifting the figurative bakery-based baby.
"Congratulations!" intoned the doctor. "It's a pumpernickel!"
The two stallions laughed small laughs. It was the first time Carrot had seen the unicorn do so during all of that long morning and early afternoon.
All too soon the doctor turned back to the clipboard, his face going somber as he asked a few more questions. Carrot answered quickly and precisely until one was reached.
"Are you currently," asked the doctor as he went straight back into his highly professional and distanced tone, "engaged, or any time in the past have you been engaged, in an extramarital affair?"
"No!" answered Carrot. "Oh, Celestia, no!"
"It's part of the checklist, Mr. Cake," intoned the doctor who looked at Carrot over his glasses, drawing Carrot back down into stillness before returning to his chart. "Such infidelity interrupts the magic. Studies have proven it, and we must eliminate all possible causes."
The doctor looked back up to Carrot. He saw the lingering question that hung there, the same fear that sits behind the eyes of all stallions when such a statement is floated out over a room.
The doctor cleared his throat and leaned forward.
"Though doctor and patient privilege prevents me from distributing confidential information about any of my clients," he said while looking Carrot directly in the eye, "I can tell you without reservation that I can eliminate that particular reason from our list of probable causes… for both of you, and that I'm very happy for the two of you as well."
The two nodded back and forth.
"I never even thought of that," said Carrot as his eyes fell back to the floor. "It never even crossed my mind."
The doctor nodded again and looked to the charts once more. Silence hung over the small examination room.
"But," spoke Carrot, "if it hasn't happened yet, us getting pregnant… does that mean that there's a chance that it may-may never happen?"
"Yes, but then again it may. The magic has its own reasons, own schedules, own motivations," said the doctor while he put the pencil aside, "all I can say at this time is 'keep trying'."
Carrot's head dropped.
"I should like to take a look at your genetic histories," he said as his magic flipped through pages, "there's some pretty engaging theories about how genetics and magic interplay, and there are well known syndromes and complications that may arise from…"
The doctor looked up from the clipboard. He stopped speaking as he saw Carrot's eyes sitting upon a cutaway model of a mare heavy with foal.
"Doctor," asked Carrot, his voice sounding worried and strained, "is it true that the mare usually blames herself… usually accuses herself, when the magic fails?"
The doctor put the clipboards aside. With a compassionate glance he leaned forward again.
"I'm… I am no psychologist, Mr. Cake, but in my experience, that is common," he said as he rubbed his hooves together. "The magic involves both parents, but it is the mare's biology that is most moved… and very often, yes, they take the responsibility upon themselves…"
"I want to be with her," Carrot said immediately, standing and staring at the door. "Right now, I want to be with her right now."
"Of course," answered the doctor, putting aside all of the trays and clipboards and opening the door, "of course."
The doctor began leading him down the hallway, past rooms where desperate looking couples surrounded by foals talked in euphemisms about ways of preventing further abundance.
The unfairness of it stung at Carrot as he realized what she must be feeling. While that horror grew in him, he began to canter and trot, the doctor struggling to keep up with him as his lab coat ruffled around him.
At once they arrived at a door. The doctor opened it.
As the two stallions stood there looking at her, Cupcake dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, the nearby wastepaper basket having grown full of them.
She looked up to them. The hospital gown from her more demanding examination crinkled as she looked back and forth between them.
"Is, is it because I'm… round?" she asked, her voice weak and withdrawn.
At once Carrot was with her. His hooves were upon the table, and he was leaning into her, running his face along hers as her tears caught in his coat.
Suffice it to say they went back home to the bakery.
Suffice it to say that the rest of the day passed quietly, that their dinner was only filled with the barest of conversation.
Suffice it to say that she went upstairs early and that he followed knowing that tonight would be hard for her.
Suffice it to say that they had laid upon the bed together.
As the night drew on, all Carrot could do for her was wrap her in his forelegs and tuck her deeper into the crux of his body.
All that Carrot could do was draw his hoof through her mane and across her shoulders as she began to cry.
All he could think to do as her small sobs filled the room was kiss her neck and cheek, tell her over and over how much he loved her.
The only thing he could do for her as they lay there in the dark was tell her how beautiful she was, and that he would never stop trying to make her happy.
Cupcake heard all of these things, knew in her heart that he meant them. In spite of that she could not stop her tears. They kept flowing, and before her eyes the figure of a little earth pony colt seemed to share them, as though it somehow knew that it would now never be made real.
In her mind's eye, the colt left their room. As it left them, it carried away all of the hopes she had, all of the dreams that they had shared. Their hopes of their love being made physical seemed to wash away with the little colt, follow him down the stairs.
As the tears fell from her, she imagined the colt too dripping, his little cries carrying away with him baby names, thoughts about diaper bags, teething rings, and milk bottles…
He looked back up the stairs and cried for her, but she could not follow. With that the colt gave a small sob and stepped outside, dissipating from her thoughts and leaving the bakery once again quiet and still.
With that they lost the second round of "The Game of This."
They had decided over the next week to tell their parents and family of their difficulty on the same day, at the same time even, simply to be done with it in one terrible instant.
Although it ripped at Carrot not to be with her when she told her family that the magic was not answering them, that there was a very real chance that they may never have children, Carrot respected her choice. Carrot trusted to her decisions as he always had.
They kissed beneath the doorway, touched their cheeks together. With that they went off to their childhood homes to drop the simple, horrible truth upon their families.
Cheesecake's face ran with tears as her son told her the fact that there may never be grandchildren in her life.
She gathered her amber-coated son to her and rocked him as best she could despite how much taller than her he was.
For Cheesecake there would be no second chance… that was what she feared. No redemption through the children of her child. No chance to be a grandmother, to redeem the years she had wasted not being a mother.
Her tears for her son and daughter-in-law grew greater as Carrot lowered his head over his mother.
At the big house on the other side of town, Cupcake's nieces and nephew were ushered outside to play in the autumn air around the garden as the hint of bad news flew through the eyes of the adults within.
As soon as Cupcake had begun to speak, she broke down. As she cried, her mother, father, and sisters held her.
Though all of them felt for her and were worried for her, only one's mind flew to places he had thought that were already extinguished.
In his mind old worries opened up, ones that centered on his family, his family that he must be allowed to defend.
With that he kissed his daughter, and under the guise of checking upon his grandchildren, he slipped back out into the streets of Ponyville, his thunderous hooves crashing upon the cobblestones as he trotted towards a familiar building.
Carrot had returned to Sugar Cube Corner earlier, just as he had expected. He had known that it would not take him as long to break the news to his mother as Cupcake would take with her family. He had returned home first even though he had made a single stop.
He placed what he had collected into the bottom of the cash register, thought that he would keep it there until the time seemed right or until she discovered them first. Either way he did not anticipate looking at them again soon.
He checked the pies, cakes, the cannoli stack, and the pastries. They were all still there. It was as though nothing had changed.
The bell rang upon the door. Sliding behind the counter Carrot looked up, glad for the distraction of having a customer to draw his mind off of his thoughts.
"Hello! Welcome to Sugar Cu…" he began.
The face of Quarry stared back at him, impassionate and distant.
"Mister Quarry, sir," said Carrot, "I… did, Cupcake catch you before, before you came here? We-we have some news…"
"I heard it, Cake," said his father-in-law. Quarry's hooves sounded out as he looked around the showcase room and turned back to face the amber stallion behind the counter.
Quarry ran his hoof through his mane and looked to Carrot over the bridge of his nose. "She's up there right now, the mares all cryin' and whimperin'… How is it that you're here, Cake?"
Carrot startled and looked to Quarry as the massive stallion eyed him with an expression Carrot couldn't name.
"I-I went to tell my mother," he answered.
"How'd she take it?" asked Quarry as he took a few steps closer.
"Not good," answered Carrot. "Not to terribly well at all."
"Are you gonna leave her?" came the voice of the stallion, the low rumble Carrot had heard upon their first meeting in the mill. It was a demand for retrieval of information, cold, impersonal… dangerous.
"What? Who? My mother?" asked Carrot, not understanding the question in the least, the very context of it escaping him.
"Cupcake!" answered Quarry as he stomped one of his hooves to the wooden floor, making display cases rattle and a distant cupcake fall to the floor.
"What? Sir, I can't even…" said Carrot as disgust flew through him, as he realized what this immense stallion was implying.
"Are you gonna leave mah' Little Cupcake, Cake? You gonna take off on her because she can't give you foals?" said Quarry as his face began to twist, the redness growing in his eyes.
Yet, it was not rage that hung there, none of the wrath that Carrot had seen upon Quarry before.
It was worry. It was deeply pronounced worry and fear.
"We, we can still have foals, it's just… the doctor said that…" Carrot stammered.
Quarry's hooves slammed to the floor, his eyes coming alight as the clatter of his mass shook the pillars and made the carefully arranged cannoli stack come tumbling down.
"Answer the buckin' question, Cake! I'm tryin' mah' hardest to stay civil, and I'm tryin not to get mad! But I need to know what in the Well yer' gonna do! Are you gonna leave mah' Little Cupcake!?" roared Quarry with his mane tossing around him.
An emotion filled Carrot as he sat under Quarry's glare, one that he did not often feel, one that did not make up a large part of his life.
Yet, what this stallion, this pony he only wanted to respect him was accusing him of… it burned behind Carrot's eyes. The emotion filled him.
With that Carrot became angry. Very, very angry.
"Buck you, Quarry! Buck you hard!" he screamed as he tore the cap from his head and flung it across the room.
"I'm not some udder-sucking little breeder who's only in this for my genes!" he roared, leaning forward into the glare of his father-in-law. "For two years all I've wanted was for you figure out that I'm bucking living for her, that she's my world! I know you grew up pretty damned well screwed over, but I had no idea how deep in the Well you've been bucked if you can't see that!"
Carrot bashed his hooves against the cash register, flung the cash drawer aside to reveal the pamphlets he had only placed there moments before.
As the bits sounded out across the floor he tossed the pamphlets in front of Quarry, pointing them out as he glared at the immense stallion. " Foster parenting! Adoption!" he cried. "I'm trying everything, you damn old goat licker! All I want is for her to be happy! It's all I've wanted since the day I first saw her in the mill! I-I'm trying everything! You want to see what's in the garbage can in the upstairs bathroom? You won't like it!"
Quarry's eyes shifted back and forth over the pamphlets as the under-biting stallion rambled on, growing weaker as his rant continued. As Cake began to lose steam, Quarry realized that the gangly stallion had now surpassed the combined time of all who had dared yell at him since he was twelve years old.
He listened with a cold glare as Carrot slowly fell out of his tirade and began to fall exhausted over the counter.
As he looked over the stallion, an emotion moved inside Quarry.
"… I-I just… just want to make her happy…that's all I've ever wanted," finished Carrot, "I had hoped you'd bucking see that by now, you old bastard… all I want is for you to know that… all I've ever wanted from you…"
Carrot looked up to see Quarry still staring down over him, something hidden behind his cold glare.
In that moment Carrot realized he had just been yelling at Quarry. In his mind he pictured this not ending well.
There was a sudden rush of movement, and Carrot opened his eyes to the peculiar sense that he was flying.
The large old stallion began to make a noise, one that sat somewhere around a sigh wrapped in a sob and encased in a bawl.
Quarry stood on his hind legs, his rigid mane almost brushing the ceiling of the bakery.
Carrot felt himself wrapped in the most uncomfortable hug he had ever experienced in his life.
Carrot's rear legs still lay upon the counter, his stomach and barrel hovering in the air. His chest and head were pressed up against the large frame of Quarry.
The older stallion danced his hooves, the loud sound ringing out around the room. Carrot felt himself begin to slip. As he did, his forelegs went to the only place they could… around the neck of the stallion and to his withers, embracing his father-in-law in one of, if not the, most awkward hugs in Equestrian history.
"I just wanted her tah' be safe," snorted Quarry as his hybrid sounds of emotion reached out and over them, "can't bring mahself to ever really believe that somepony don't want somethin' from her, from us…"
Carrot, firmly buried in the mammoth stallion's chest, hung there wide-eyed and attempted to pat Quarry on the back.
"Couldn't make sense of it at all, of you," continued Quarry while he rocked Carrot back and forth, "but I ain't so stupid I can't see it. I had tah' ask ya', needed to get in yer' head…"
Carrot then saw the point of Quarry's visit. He needed to see Carrot's love for his daughter again, to prove to himself that love was real outside the small definition he had set for himself. Quarry had needed it to be real in places other than behind the gates of the fortress he had built.
"I just, needed to see it again, to know it, Carrot. Oh, Celestia! I'm sorry Carrot, you're so good to her, so good to mah' Little Cupcake! You're a good son, Carrot… you're a good son!" Quarry concluded, very nearly crushing Carrot as he wrapped him deeper in his embrace.
Everything about the statement swam through Carrot. The way he had called him "Carrot" instead of "Cake." The way he had admitted that he saw their love, saw the lines of causality that bound him to Cupcake. The way he had left out "in-law" and had only called Carrot "son."
No stallion had ever called Carrot "son."
Ever.
Quarry pulled Carrot gingerly over the counter and helped him to his hooves. As the day wore away the two stallions stood there as emotions flew between them.
"Mister Quarry, sir, I…" began Carrot.
"Dammit all, Carrot," interrupted Quarry as his jaw shifting back and forth before settling into a smile, "just call me Quarry."
"Quarry…" said Carrot, returning the smile.
At that moment the bell above the door rang. Cupcake entered to the sight of her husband and her father standing there with tears upon their faces, the cash register flung open, and various baked goods having fallen from their racks.
"What, what is going on?" she asked as Carrot dove for the countertop and seemed to tuck some pamphlets away. At the same time, Quarry attempted to hide a fallen cupcake, apparently by stomping upon it so hard that it vaporized.
"Nothing!" the two called in unison, big fake smiles appearing on their otherwise tearful faces.
She eyed them dubiously.
That had been a hard day, a hard day on many fronts.
They lay upon the bed together as the mattress shifted beneath their weight.
Their nightly attempts had ended that night after they had come home from the doctor. For the last week all that she had wanted was to lie with her hooves wrapped in his, and so Carrot did just that, trying to draw out her pain.
Cupcake stood and left the bed to go and sit in front of the window. She stared out across Ponyville, the moonlight catching across the thatched roofs of the little city.
He watched her sitting there in the moonbeams. Her soft tones were muted in the darkness of the bedroom, and she seemed somehow like she had shrunk over those few hard days that had cumulated with the reveal to her family.
Carrot spun and rested his body across the foot of the bed. He began to speak to her softly.
Yes, he said, it had not gone as they had planned or as they had wished. They had a right to be sad… they had so many wonderful hopes, had pictured how it might look.
He lifted his head and spoke to her as she still peered out the window. There was no fault here, no blame. This was something beyond their control, something over which they had no power.
This was something that he was not afraid of.
Cupcake turned and looked at him. There she saw her husband's head upon the mattress, peering up to her with consoling eyes.
He was not afraid, he said, because she was going through this hard time with him. The only way he would ever be afraid was if she somehow were not there… that she would go somewhere without him.
She turned around fully and laid her head upon the bed so that she looked into his eyes as he spoke.
Their marriage, their love, it was a journey… one that he had pledged to go on with her. It was one that had already led them to so many wonderful places.
Yes, one border had been shut to them, one place they had strived to reach had been closed off and put out of their grasp. They would put away the baby name books and the few toys. They would repackage the crib, if just for now, but the journey itself would go on…
She leaned forward and gave him a tiny kiss.
There were so many places, he told her, that this journey could take them.
"… and wherever you want to go," he said, repeating a promise first spoken in that room, "I'll go there with you."
She stood and looked down at him as he lay there smiling to her gently.
"Oh? And where do you think we should go first?" she said, peering down at him with the wicked little smile that he adored. "Where does the journey go from here?"
"Uhhh, how about," he said as he lifted his hoof to her, "we, ummm… how about we start by exploring the great and unknown continent that is our bed?"
Her laughter rang out around the darkened room. It continued as she wiped her hoof across his face. The comment had been ridiculous, but spoken just so… and his smile still reached for her.
How could she refuse to partake in such a daring expedition?
So with that, they did.
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So many feelings from this chapter!
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And we aren't done yet!
I'm so happy to go on this trip, dude. I know this story is 18 chapters from what I've seen on Deviant Art, but I refuse to read it there to avoid from spoiling anything. I loved Carrot's rant at Quarry, it was the best rant speech since Edward Norton's Fuck All speech in the movie 25th Hour(a movie that is impossible to censor.). I mean wow...last time I said he was a bad ass, now he's the most awesome thing since the invention of yoga pants and the McRib. He tore into a guy that is three times his size, he's determined, and is fed up with Quarry's shit. Then what happens after that? You make me shed more manly tears then I did during the part of Good Will Hunting, where Robin Williams says, "It's not your fault." I went into this chapter feeling okay, then depressed(pregnancy issues), then excited(Cake's speech), then d'awww/manly tears(Quarry accepts Carrot), and finally happy. I can't wait till Pinkie fills that void, plus It'll be great to see another familiar face.
This how I felt during this chapter.
3.bp.blogspot.com/-XQTl20LaNaw/TcAxMSdt1xI/AAAAAAAABU4/kecMDEVeISw/s1600/glass_case_of_emotion.gif
"I'm in a glass case of emotion."
Also I love the Incredible Hulk reference with Mr. Cake: Carrot became angry. Very, very angry.
You won't like him when he's angry.
Peace Out.
So Pinkie Pie comes into the story within the next chapter or two right?
Kind of sad that the Cakes are having pregnancy issues, still better that than a miscarriage I suppose, please don't tell me that the Cakes suffer that too, PLEASE!
and this is where pinkie comes in right? anyway, awww. Quarry's acting so sweet, accepting and vulnerable. it's soooo sweet. especially the hug.
558201
So, now I'm hungry for a McRib.
I'm glad the chapter was such a dynamic bit of emotion for you! I wanted the readers to know that the story definitely still has some curveballs left in it, that a love story doesn't end just because the characters get married. I'm glad that you were able to see that!:)
558664
559290
Yes, she comes to live them next chapter!
Though I now have a permanent twitch in my right eye, this is a great chapter. I loved Carrot's rant, and I fully expected Quarry to end Carrot, so it was really nice to see him open up like that. Can't wait to see how they handle Pinkie in the next chapter.
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Glad you liked the way it came around! It's gonna be interesting to see how they interact with her, I promise!
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That was exactly my intent... to show that love doesn't end at "I do". Glad you're still enjoying it!
Why did I read this on Mother's Day?
If you'll excuse me, I need to make another phone call
chzbronies.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/my-little-pony-friendship-is-magic-brony-manly-tears.jpg
Okay, so I've been crying since the first page, but this part really got to me.
Unfortunately, I can understand far too well how they're feeling about not being able to have kids.
Thank you for writing this.
This chapter was truly an emotional roller coaster of a chapter
. I can't even begin to explain how many different emotions I went through reading this chapter. I really like how you explained magic and how it is used by every type of pony and in every day life. I also liked how you explained its involvement in reproduction and how it changes the Cake's situation. In general I have really enjoyed the world building you have done in this story so far. In fact some of what you have explained may just become head canon 
. I hate to bring up the whole stupid "ponies don't eat meat" thing again like I did last chapter but mussels are meat as well. Granted I have not read the next few chapters so I'm not sure if you explain it in future chapters or not.
"How in the Well to Guess What in the Buck Your Baby's Cutie Mark and Special Talent are Going to Be so You Don't Saddle the Foal with a Ridiculous Name for the Rest of Their Mortal Life"
There's a mouthful...
"Is, is it because I'm… round?"
That is probably the most heart Wrentching line I have ever read, it makes no sense at all outside of context but it made me want to hug my computer just to try and make cupcake feel better.
gak, the tears of happy and sad
the sad and the adorable and the sweet
This story. What do I say? Everypony needs a hug. And chocolate.
I can't say anything except incoherent d'awws.
I want to know how to do this. I want to play the mysterious instrument of "the feels".
And it just now occurs to me that if I try to extend that metaphor any further, it will start sounding really weird and awkward, so I shall resume reading. And dissolving into incoherent d'awwws and happysad tears.
Best chapter so far!
Really feel bad for them. You really feel the stresses, heartache and plain misery with their struggle to have a baby.
It feels very real, very sad, but very hopeful as well
*sniff* But even through the FEELS, I still grinned at the bit about Carrot surpassing the combined time of everyone who's yelled at Quarry for years.
I think your 'pony reproduction' has become my headcanon as well now.
Welp, even having seen this coming for a while did nothing to soften the blow. Seeing their pain, seeing Carrot want to take the blame for himself... That was hard, man.
Might want to fix that extra space, though.
This chapter, god, this is the third most heart wrenching chapter in the whole lot. I mean, I was tryoing my best to keep calm through the live read. The worst part is...I am not at the hard one yet.