//------------------------------// // Chapter Thirty-Eight - Cookies and Cons // Story: A Daughter and her Dragon // by Level Dasher //------------------------------// “Absolutely, dear Cotton. We would be happy to send somepony to patrol. Especially if thy suspicions are correct and thine old bully is the culprit,” Luna said. “In fact, We believe We have the perfect pony in mind.” “Cool! Anyone I know?” Cotton asked. Luna shook her head. “Nay. ‘Tis most disappointing, but We have been unable to assign this new recruit to his own post, and thus his wondrous talents have not been utilized. His speed and stealth make him nigh impossible to see or hear; t’would scare these rogues out of their wits,” Luna laughed, a hint of sadistic pleasure creeping into her tone. “Thou wouldst have a noctis to guard thy petitioner’s residence, and t’would give Us a post for a fine young stallion. ‘Tis mutually beneficial.” Cotton gave Luna a hug. “Thank you so much, Aunt Luna. Now my second case was a success, too.” Luna wrapped Cotton in her wing and returned the hug with a smile. “Thou art quite welcome, Cotton, and We thank thee as well. We would like to repeat, We are most proud of thine actions in the court that Our sister relayed to Us. Thy diligence to thy petitioners is also worthy of high praise.” “Thanks,” Cotton responded. “It’s the first time I’ve actually made calls like this; I wanted to make sure I followed through quickly.” “‘Tis a wise course of action.” Cotton nodded. “It’s actually been pretty easy. Auntie Celestia was right about that meeting with Mrs. Stitch; it was short. We just gave her the offer for her loan and had her sign a contract for a three-year payment plan. Took all of fifteen minutes. Sounds like it was much easier than negotiating with a bank,” she said. “Indeed,” Luna responded. As she broke her hug with Luna, Cotton said, “I’m baking a few trays of cookies tonight, Aunt Luna. Do you want some?” Luna licked her lips. “What kind art thou making?” “Just some regular chocolate chip. Two trays for Raven and one for Auntie Celestia. Aunt Twilight said she’d steal a few,” she chuckled. Raising her brows, Luna asked, “May We make a request?” “Depends on what you ask for,” Cotton giggled. “Couldst thou…” Luna thrust out her lower lip. “Couldst thou makest a tray of thy chocolate-chocolate chip? They, uh… they keep Us more attentive in the Dreamscape.” Cotton crossed her forehooves and cocked a brow. “Yeah. Right.” As Luna pouted, she giggled again and jumped at her aunt, nuzzling her neck. “But yes, I can do that.” Luna’s muzzle split into a grin as she lifted her head and clapped her hooves around Cotton. “Huzzah! We promise thy dreams will be most pleasant tonight,” she said, nuzzling Cotton back. She then lit her horn and opened the doors to her balcony, before levitating a small table outside. A little bell soon followed after. “We must begin Our duties shortly, so when thou art finished with thy magic desserts, couldst thou leave Ours on that table and ring the bell? ‘Tis enchanted so We shall always hear it.” Nodding with a smile, Cotton replied, “I can do that. Just don’t let them get cold, okay?” Luna chuckled. “We shant allow such a crime. Now, couldst thou tarry here a moment?” “Sure!” Lighting her horn, Luna lifted a piece of parchment and a quill from her desk across the room and wrote a few quick lines. After she set the quill back on her desk, the parchment rolled up, then disappeared. “What was that?” Cotton asked her. Luna smiled. “Thou shalt bear witness anon.” As a light breeze flitted across one of Luna’s curtains, Cotton looked out the balcony doors at the evening sky and took in a nice, deep breath, then let it out. “It’s really nice out tonight, huh?” Following Cotton’s gaze, Luna’s smile morphed into a smirk. “Yes, ‘tis, isn’t it?” Then she turned her head to the side and glanced behind her. “Good evening, Tacca.” “Good evening, Your Highness.” Cotton jumped as she whipped around, finding herself face to face with a lean, pitch-black noctis, adorned in armor and holding a salute. He appeared to be a few inches and years more than her. Cotton shook her head. “Woah. You weren’t kidding, Aunt Luna.” Luna chuckled. “Indeed, We weren’t. At ease, Tacca.” As he put his hoof down and settled on his haunches, the noctis said, “Thank you, Your Highness. You wanted to speak with me?” With a nod, Luna replied, “Yes, Tacca. We would like to formally introduce thee to Our niece, Cotton Candy. Cotton, this is Tacca, Our newest recruit.” “Nice to finally meet you up close, Miss Cotton,” Tacca said. Cotton giggled. “Likewise. I’ll let this one slide, but don’t call me ‘Miss’ next time, okay? Please?” Nodding, Tacca replied, “Sure thing.” Luna cleared her throat. “Tacca, Cotton hath made a request that requires a noctis guard. Due to thine abilities, We believe thou wouldst be the perfect pony for the job.” The noctis’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s awe—uh, I mean, that’s good to hear, Your Highness.” Laughing, Luna said, “‘Tis alright to be excited, young Tacca. We shant hold that outburst against thee.” Rubbing the back of his head, Tacca blushed. “Heh, thank you, Your Highness.” He then turned and addressed Cotton. “What can I do for you, Cotton?” Cotton smiled and let out a breath. “Finally, someone who gets it the first time. Oh, uh, here.” She walked up to Tacca and gave him a slip of parchment. “If you go to this address on the east side of Central Canterlot, a stallion named Punch Line should be waiting for you. Well, he probably isn’t expecting you at this moment, but he shouldn’t like, freak out or anything. Anyway, his neighborhood is having trouble with ponies that they think are a gang—y’know, tags, TPs, stuff like that…” Tacca nodded. “…so they were hoping we could get someone to patrol for them.” Tacca smirked. “Sweee—I mean…” He flipped his hoof back into a salute. “I’ll do my best, Cotton.” Cotton laughed, then looked up at Luna and pointed her hoof at the young stallion. “He’s perfect.” “We thought so, too,” Luna chuckled. Blushing again, Tacca said, “Uh, thank you, Cotton. Your Highness.” He suddenly vanished, then Cotton heard his voice from behind her. “What should I do when I catch them?” Cotton flipped around again and found him in front of the balcony doors, still holding his salute. “Woah.” Luna laughed. “Most impressive, Tacca. We admire thy skill.” “Thank you, Your Highness.” “Thou art most welcome.” She looked at Cotton. “Well, Cotton? Dost thou have restrictions for Tacca? Anything he shant do during his patrol?” “Oh, uh…” She scratched her head for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. No damage to any of the residents’ properties…” “Of course.” “…um… and no physical contact with any of the culprits. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She shrugged her shoulder. “Well, no harmful physical contact.” Tacca nodded. “So the old ‘tap on the shoulder and disappear’ tactic is okay?” Cotton smirked. “Go for it.”   With another nod, Tacca said, “Sounds good. Anything else?” Cotton shifted her eyes upward for a moment, then she raised her eyebrows slightly. “Yeah. If one of them happens to be a brown unicorn named Boulder…” Her smirk turned crooked. “…you can give him something a little…extra. But still no harm.” Tacca returned Cotton’s expression. “Can do.” She shifted and gave him a salute of her own. “Good luck.” Nodding again, Tacca replied, “Thank you, Cotton.” His eyes shifted towards Luna before he added, “Have a good evening, Your Highness.” Then he vanished once again, and another breeze flitted across Luna’s curtain. Cotton looked up at Luna, pointing her saluting hoof out the doors. “I like him.” Luna laughed. “We thought thou wouldst.” Ж Lying on his giant pillow pile, Twilight sitting next to the claw supporting his head, Spike sighed. “I just don’t think I can do it right now, Twi. I mean, Ember’s been on my case about this for years now. It’s obviously important to her, but I… well, I’ve already told both of you the reasons why I won’t do it. Many times.” Twilight shook her head. “Spike, you know I’m always happy to let you talk to me about this. But I don’t know how valuable my input really would be at this point. This is an important decision, but it’s only yours to make.” Spike narrowed his eyes. “And you’ve said that multiple times, too. You seriously have nothing to add? You used to give me all kinds of input and advice when I was younger.” Shrugging her shoulders, Twilight responded, “Well, you were a kid that needed guidance then. You aren’t anymore. Technically yes, by dragon standards you’re still young—geez, now I am, too, for an alicorn—but by pony standards you’re an adult that should make your own decisions. An old one at that. You made the decision to adopt Cotton, and look how amazingly well that turned out.” She smiled and lay her head on his folded claw. “You’re a wonderful father, Spike, don’t ever doubt that.” Spike sighed again. “Thank you, Twi, but Cotton is a completely different kettle of fish. I can see her every day. Hatchlings… not so much. I can’t go stay in the Dragon Lands and Ember can’t leave them. But I will admit… after raising Cotton the past few years… I can honestly say, I’d be happy to be a father again. I just can’t stand the thought of not being around to raise my own children.” He took a claw and began massaging his forehead. “It still bothers me that Ember didn’t even wait until Rarity had passed away. Rarity would have pitched a fit if I ever told her.” Twilight lifted her head and patted his claw with a hoof. “Well, Spike, remember, both of those things are part of our culture, particularly the one-pony commitment of marriage. Not all creatures do that. You were raised the pony way. From what Ember’s told me, that’s altered how you would normally think as a dragon. What she’s suggesting is how dragons usually—” “But I’m not a ‘usual’ dragon, Twilight,” Spike cut her off. “You’ve said it yourself, I’m different from the others. Other male dragons may be fine abandoning their children with a mate, but I won’t do that. I’m not part pony, it’s just the way I think. However I was raised, I’m me now, and I happen to like me. And geez, given how long dragon adolescence usually lasts… I’d fall asleep before they reached their initial maturity. We both know the only reason Ember and I grew so much more quickly is because of the power of the Bloodstone Scepter.” “Well, that’s one of the other things you need to think about. Not only are you a good candidate to be Ember’s mate, but you may be the only candidate. And if you’re worried about not seeing your children grow up,” Twilight said, “even if you went to the Dragon Lands right now and… gave Ember what she wants, your children would technically still be in their teens when you wake up.” Spike groaned. “Yes, but from what Ember’s told me, it’s the first two centuries that really matter. I’d be asleep for the second one.” “Spike, look,” Twilight sighed. “I told you my input wouldn’t be valuable because there’s more to raising a dragon family than I know. I’ve tried to help by talking you through what I do know, but I’m sure there are other aspects about this part of Dragon culture that Ember has yet to tell me. You need to talk to her. You’ve pushed her away before she’s had a chance to tell you more about it.” “After almost twenty years, what more could I need to know? But… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask,” Spike said. Then a little smile appeared on his face. “Cotton does seem to like the idea of having dragon siblings…” Ж The next morning, Cotton pushed open the main doors with a yawn. Then she called behind her, “See you later, everyone!” “Have a good day, Cotton!” the guards said in unison. Cotton giggled as she walked out. After another yawn escaped her, Cotton smiled as she let out a hum. Aunt Luna really went all out last night. I didn’t wanna wake up from that one. She let a sigh. I just wish I could’ve stayed with him a little longer… even if it was just a dream. She looked up at the early morning sky and took in a few deep breaths, trying to wake herself up fully. As she got ready to take off, a timely realization did that instead. “Oh horseapples, the flour!” Ж Dragging herself through the shop’s back door, Cotton called, “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Cutter! I almost forgot the flour.” She let the bag of flour slide off her back with a thump, then took her saddlebag off as well, but heard no response. She put her spare key away in her bag and called again. “Mr. Cutter?” Again, no response. Cotton shrugged. “I’ll go set up the front. Save him an extra step.” After she walked through the kitchen door, Cotton began taking the lids off the pastry plates. Geez, why doesn’t he make new— “Girl! What are you doing out here?” Cotton jumped as a chocolate-colored stallion came through the front entrance. “I was just—” “You were just getting back into the kitchen and baking! I’ve told you not to come out here!” Cookie Cutter snapped. “Alright, alright, I’m going,” she responded, walking back through the kitchen door. Sheesh, it’s like he thinks I’m gonna scare off customers or something. As she gathered common ingredients for all of the various pastries, Cotton heard Cookie Cutter grunt before he stuck his head through the kitchen door. “Did you bring more flour, girl?” “Yes, Mr. Cutter,” she answered, nodding in the direction of the unopened bag. “Good, now get to it.” He then disappeared back into the front, and Cotton could hear the lids being lifted off the rest of the pastry plates. “Mr. Cutter, what would you like me to start with? The cookies as usual?” The baker called back, “Yes, girl. Ran out of those again yesterday.” Cotton nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. “Yes, sir.” Ж When the clock struck twelve, Cookie Cutter walked into the kitchen. “Girl, I’m going out for a few minutes—have to meet somepony a few doors down,” he said, opening the back door. “If anypony comes in, tell ‘em I’ll be back soon.” “Mr. Cutter, I can run the register if you need me to,” Cotton replied. “I—” The baker’s head whipped around. “Hay no! You’ll scare the customers away! Just call out from back here. Won’t take long.” He then trotted out the door and closed it behind him as he walked out. Cotton froze mid-knead as she stared at the door. “That is why he always sticks me back here! What a jerk!” Moments later, the little bell at the front door chimed as a customer walked in. “Hello? Is anypony here?” an elderly female voice called. “Mr. Cutter will be back soon, Ma’am,” Cotton called back with a frown on her face. “He’s running a quick errand.” “Oh? Could you possibly help me, young lady? I’m in a bit of a rush.” Cotton instinctively shook her head. “I’m really sorry, ma’am. I, uh… I need to stay back here. I’ve got a lot of work to do.” “Oh, bother,” the mare replied. “I’ll need to go across the street, then.” “That might be best today, ma’am, but please do come back again. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” The mare let out a short sigh. “Indeed. Perhaps next time you won’t be so overwhelmed.” “I hope so, ma’am.” As Cotton heard the clip-clop of retreating hooves, the mare called, “Have a good day!” Then Cotton heard the bell again as she left. “I feel like I’ve heard that voice before…” Cotton muttered to herself, rolling out more pie crust. Ten minutes later, after Cookie Cutter still hadn’t returned, Cotton heard the bell once again. This time, a male voice she’d heard almost daily ever since she’d started working at the bakery called out. “Hey, Mr. Cutter! You around?” “Sorry sir, Mr. Cutter is running an errand at the moment,” Cotton called. “He should be back soon.” She rolled her eyes. Or so he claimed. “Oh! I didn’t even know somepony else worked here. Hey Miss, d’ya think you could help me out? Kinda hard for me to write at my spot without somethin’ in my stomach.” Cotton sighed. “Sorry, sir. I—” She cut herself off. Then her brows furrowed as she smacked the dough she’d been kneading. Know what? Screw it. “I sure can, sir. Just give me one moment!” “Thanks!” Leaving the dough on her work counter, Cotton washed her hooves at the sink, dried them off, then walked through the kitchen door and up to the register with her most professional smile. She found herself standing across from a teal unicorn with a muted opal mane. “Hi there, you must be a regular; I’ve heard your voice a lot. My name’s Cotton Candy—how may I help you?” The stallion’s eyes widened as his eyebrows rose. Cotton grimaced; it looked like he was staring at her scars. Oh horseapples, Mr. Cutter was right… The young stallion didn’t back away, though. “…Cotton Candy?” he asked, tilting his head at her. “As in, Sir Spike’s daughter Cotton Candy?” Cotton flinched. “Uh, yeah.” She leaned forward and looked at him a little closer. “Wait… You look kinda familiar.” The stallion’s muzzle broke into a smile. “I’m Dreamweaver! Remember, your dad introduced us in the park like…” He tapped his hoof on the counter a few times. “Geez, must’ve been four or five years ago. You look great!” A smile returning to her muzzle, Cotton responded, “Hey, yeah! I remember you!” She blushed and rubbed the back of her head. “And thanks. You too.” After a moment, a memory struck her. “If I remember right I think I fell asleep while you were telling a story… Sorry.” Dreamweaver laughed. “It’s okay, pretty sure my little brother fell asleep during that one, too. Made for a good bedtime story, apparently.” “Apparently,” Cotton giggled. “Yeah, I’ve been working on stories that are hopefully less sleep-inducing lately,” he chuckled, then he pointed to a table in the corner. “Mr. Cutter lets me sit over there and write during lunch time. He says it lures in other customers when there’s somepony already in here.” Cotton shrugged. “He’s probably right about that.” “Yeah, I just need to buy something before I sit.” “Oh! Right!” Cotton shook her head. “What would you like?” “Oh, yeah. Could I have four of those chocolate chip cookies over there?” he said, pointing at a plate over on the right side of the counter. Cotton grinned. “Sure.” “So how long have you been working here?” “Two months or so,” Cotton said, reaching for a paper bag. “Decided not to go to college, so I'm doing an apprenticeship here instead. Oh, wait.” Cotton turned around and asked Dreamweaver, “You said you’re staying here, right? Would you like a bag or a plate?” “Yeah, plate’s fi—” Dreamweaver cut himself off, then tilted his head at her. “Wait, you said you’ve been working here for two months?” “Just about, yeah. Why?” she asked, grabbing a paper plate. “Pretty sure that’s around when Mr. Cutter started selling those cookies.” Cotton giggled as she started picking out cookies with some tissue paper and putting them on Dreamweaver’s plate. “Of course, that’s ‘cause I make ‘em.” Frowning, Dreamweaver said, “Uh, you might want to look at the label, then.” “Huh? Why?” Cotton picked up the stand that held the label in front of the cookies and turned it around. Her jaw dropped when she read it: ‘Cutter’s Special Cookies.’ “Yeah,” Dreamweaver said. “Looks like he’s been passing ‘em off as his own.” Cotton’s brows furrowed. “Why that… Probably another reason he makes me stay in the back,” she huffed. “So I wouldn’t see him taking credit for my recipe.” “Geez, I always thought he was such a good guy. Guess not.” He let out a snort. “At least, not when a better baker comes around. Gotta tell you, those cookies are amazing.” “Thanks. Haven’t had any complaints so far,” Cotton responded with a little smile. Reaching into his saddlebag, Dreamweaver said, “Tell you what, could you put those in a bag instead? I still want ‘em, but I can’t stay if you aren’t supposed to be out here, so I’m gonna pay you.” Her smile widening, Cotton said, “Sure, I’m glad you like ‘em so much. And thanks.” “Of course.” He placed the proper amount of bits on the counter by the register. Then he added an extra. “And here. I know it isn’t much, but since you haven’t been getting the credit you deserve—” “No, no, that’s not necessary,” Cotton said, putting the fourth cookie in a bag. “You already told me what’s going on. That’s enough of a ‘tip.’” Dreamweaver shook his head. “Please, take it. I want you to have it.” Cotton blushed as she put the bag of cookies in front of him. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.” “Sure thing.” Dreamweaver smiled, then looked at the door over his shoulder. “I better bolt. I’ll see you another time?” “Maybe.” Cotton shrugged. “We’ll see.” “Good enough for me,” Dreamweaver said, before pointing at the label above the plate of cookies. “You really oughta call Cutter out on that. Unless you want me to do it.” “No, I’ll do it,” Cotton said firmly. “He’s been a jerk ever since I started. If he thinks he can keep pushing me around, he’s got another thing coming.” Dreamweaver nodded. “Sounds good. Give the money-grubber what for.” He then quickly retreated without another word. Cotton nodded to herself. I will. Maybe I can have Dreamweaver ask him for the recipe! He’ll have to admit not knowing it, then I can… Her eyes suddenly widened. Oh horseapples I need to get back in the kitchen! She quickly put the bits in another pastry bag and galloped through the kitchen door. After dropping the bits in her saddlebag, she rushed back to the worktable and began kneading the raw dough once again. Moments later, Cookie Cutter walked through the back door. “Did anypony come in, girl?” he asked, a huge frown on his muzzle. “Uh, yes, Mr. Cutter—two customers. Sounded like an older mare and a stallion. Well, maybe a young stallion. I told them both you were running an errand.” Cookie Cutter huffed. “Hmph, must’ve been the boy. Eh, he’ll be back tomorrow. You didn’t go out and talk to them, did you?” “No, Mr. Cutter, I stayed back here. If you don’t mind me asking,” Cotton said, “is everything alright? You were gone longer than I thought you’d be.” The stallion grunted at her. “None of your business. Get back to work.” With that, he went out the kitchen door to cover the register. Cotton glared at the door. Yeah, my recipes don’t belong to your business, either.