//------------------------------// // Chapter Forty - Sooner or Later // Story: A Daughter and her Dragon // by Level Dasher //------------------------------// After she awoke to her early alarm, Cotton made her way down the hall to the bathroom for her morning grooming. She stopped short when Luna stuck her head out of her bedroom door and past her guards with a yawn, the rest of her body staying inside the room. “Woah! Uh, good morning, Aunt Luna.” “Good morning, Cotton,” Luna responded with a smile. “We apologize for thrusting Ourselves into thy path, but We must ask thee; didst thou—” Her smile turned deadpan. “—have a visitor last night?” Cotton flinched. “Uhh… Like…?”   Luna’s expression did not change. “Like thy cousin.” “Umm, oh, which o—” “Second,” Luna interrupted, narrowing her eyes. “In law. Once removed.” Her narrowed eyes rolled. “We still do not understand why she uses that.” Resigned, Cotton sighed and nodded. “Yeah, she hung out with me a bit last night. Sorry, I didn’t want her to get in trouble. I really needed her, though; yesterday kinda sucked.” Luna’s smile returned. “Alright, then We shant berate her. We wanted to be sure she spoketh true to Us.” She brought the rest of herself through the door, then leaned down and gave Cotton a nuzzle. “We hope thou hast a better day today.” Cotton nuzzled her back. “Thanks, Aunt Luna. I’ll see ya later. Oh, and by the way, we just think the ‘second cousin’ thing is funny,” she said with a smile. Luna chuckled. “‘Tis fair and simple reasoning.” After Cotton continued going down the hallway, she called, “Oh! Cotton, lest We forget…” Turning around, Cotton asked, “Yeah?” “Tacca reported to Us. He wishes to speak with thee.” “Oh. Uh, okay.” Ж “See ya later, everyone!” Cotton called as she reached for the door. “Have a good day, Cotton!” all the guards responded as usual. Cotton smiled, then opened the door. In an instant, a pitch-black noctis holding a salute suddenly appeared right in front of her, blocking her path. “Hey, Cotton.” “WAH!” Cotton staggered back, falling on her rump. As she looked up, she shook her head. “Tacca, please don’t do that again.” He blushed. “Heh, sorry.” “It’s okay. What’s up? Aunt Luna said you wanted to talk to me, but shouldn’t you be off duty by now? Relax… or at ease, or whatever,” she giggled. Tacca smiled as he put his hoof down. “Thanks. My shift just ended. I wanted to catch you before you left, though.” Cotton rose back to her hooves. “Uh, okay. What’s up?” She could swear she heard another voice, almost inaudible… “I talked to Punch Line the other night. Cool guy, by the way. He wasn’t kidding about the neighborhood; graffiti, leftover TPs, broken windowpanes, ruined gardens… the place was a wreck. Definitely arrest-worthy offenses.” “Geez, I didn’t know it was that bad.” Tacca nodded. “Yeah, so I just wanted to ask you something.” Cotton tilted her head. “Like what?” He smirked, then reached past the doorway, out of Cotton’s view. A second later, he unceremoniously dropped a quivering, stocky, brown unicorn—hog-tied and wearing an inhibitor ring on his horn—on his rump right in front of her. “This him?” Cotton’s eyes widened for a split second. Then a crooked smirk grew on her muzzle. “Hello, Boulder.” “I’ll take that as a yes.” “W-w-w-w-what the buck is going on here? Where’s my crew? Wha—” Boulder’s eyes went wide as dinner plates as he looked up at the face of his old victim. “S-s-s-sweet Celestia… Cotton?” he cried. Cotton nodded. “Might not have been the best idea to pick on someone who’s part of the Royal Family, hmmm?” His gulp was noticeably large as it went down his throat. “Uuuuhhhhh…” “What, my dad crushing your house wasn’t enough to make you think being a jerk was a bad idea?” “Ummmmmmmmm…” “Yeah, still can’t answer simple questions,” Cotton said. “Are you still seventeen?” Boulder slowly nodded his head up and down. “Hmph. Still qualify for juvi, then. One more year and you would’ve gone to the big stable,” Cotton said, disappointment in her tone. “Such a shame you haven’t changed. You should’ve known it’d come back to bite you in the flank sooner or later.” She looked back up at the smirking noctis and smiled. “Great job, Tacca.” He held up a salute, his smirk shifting into a smile of his own. “Thanks, Cotton.” Then she frowned and pointed at the ropes holding Boulder’s legs together. “I have to ask, though. Is he hurt?” “Nope,” Tacca said, shaking his head as his smile morphed back into another smirk. “I tied him up before he even knew what was happening.” “Yeah, I’m just a little colt,” Boulder said, two steps behind the conversation’s flow. “You can let me go now, I promise I won’t do it again.” Boulder tried to wriggle out of the ropes with limited success. “Too bad, dude,” Tacca took his hoof and pushed down on his head to keep him in place. “You’re heading downtown with the rest of your buddies.” Cotton’s eyes widened this time. “Wait, you already got the rest of them down there?” Tacca laughed under his breath. “I actually got them to gallop to the jailhouse themselves.” He tilted his head down at Boulder. “Him too, I just wanted to get confirmation from you personally,” he said with a wink. “Local cops may have had an issue catching them, but not me. It’s easy when your targets can’t see what’s chasing them.” With another chuckle, Cotton shifted her posture upright and nodded. “Well then… Yes, this is him.” “Very good, ma’am,” he responded with a smirk. Cotton giggled. “Alright, I have to get to work.” As Tacca moved aside so she could walk out the door, she added, “Awesome job, Tacca. Seriously.” “Thanks, Cotton. I’ll go bring this guy down to the station and then hit the hay for the day. Have a good one!” he finished with a wave and a smile. Bending her knees to take off, Cotton responded, “You t—wait! I just realized…” Cotton frowned, cutting herself off and turning back to him. She gestured her head at Boulder and said, “You caught him. That means you don’t have a post now…”   Tacca shrugged as his smile faded. “Eh, happens. I’m sure Princess Luna will find something else for me sooner or later.” Cotton shook her head. “No, I’ll talk to her about finding you something. You’re too skilled to be sitting around on your flank. I’ll get her to create a post if I have to.” A smile slowly grew back on Tacca’s muzzle. “Thanks, Cotton. I really appreciate that.” She smiled back at him, then gave him a quick salute and said, “No problem. See ya!” before she rose up into the air and flew off towards the city. Tacca looked back down at Boulder, who was almost finished untying his ropes. “Sorry, bud, not today.” “Horseapples!” With a snort, Tacca said, “Alright, time to bring you to the station. Ground or air?” Boulder looked up at him. “What?” “I said…” Tacca’s hind hoof struck the concrete beneath them with a thunk.  “…ground…” He then hooked his forearms under Boulder’s shoulders and lifted him high up into the sky with a smirk on his face. “…or air?” Screaming at the top of his lungs, Boulder cried, “GROUND! GROUND!” Tacca shrugged. “Oh well.” Then he flew off in the direction of the jailhouse.    “AAAAAHHHHHHH! COTTOOOOOOOOOOONN!” Cotton heard her name being screamed from behind her, then watched as Tacca flew by, holding a flailing Boulder in his hooves. She smiled and waved at the two of them. “Bye, Boulder! Have a nice flight!” She and Tacca winked at each other as he flew past her. After she landed next to the alley behind the bakery, she took her key out of her saddlebag, happily humming to herself as she walked to the door. Ж “Good morning, Mr. Cutter!” Cotton called as she entered the kitchen, placing her saddlebag against the wall with a smile. Cookie Cutter poked his head through the door. “Well you sound chipper.” Cotton shrugged. “I had a good night’s rest, I guess.” “Good, then you’ll make those cookies twice as fast.” Cocking a brow, Cotton responded, “Baking doesn’t work that way, Mr. Cutter, and you know that.” “Whatever,” Cookie Cutter scoffed. “Just get to it, girl.” He then went back to the register out front. At that moment, Cotton remembered her encounter with Dreamweaver the previous day, and her new goal. Okay, I have to find a way for someone to ask Mr. Cutter for my recipe so I can call him out. Maybe I can catch Dreamweaver’s eye when he comes in later… But there’s no window on the door. Maybe if I open it just a crack and— no, Mr. Cutter would spot me. Maybe Dreamweaver’ll just do it on his own… no, I can’t assume that. Cotton groaned. Dammit. Maybe I can get Dad to give me Dreamweaver’s address. I can talk to him later tonight and ask him to do it tomorrow, then I can make my move. Yeah, that’s probably the best way to do it. And if Dad asks why I want to see Dreamweaver I’ll just tell him we met when I was coming home and he dropped something that I need to return to him. Yeah. Yeah, that’ll work. Cotton heard the ding of the register, then some shuffling. After a few minutes, Cookie Cutter stepped into the kitchen. “Girl, why am I missing eight bits?” he growled. “Uh, what are you talking about, Mr. Cutter?” “The inventory shows I’m missing four cookies’ worth of bits. That’s eight. Where are they?” Cotton kept her breathing even. “How should I know? I was back here all day yesterday. If you’d let me run the register then I—” “Absolutely not, girl. You stay back here; that’s final,” the baker said with a hard stare. “I’ll figure out what happened if it’s the last thing I do.” With that, he walked back out of the kitchen, grumbling. Whew, that was close, Cotton thought to herself. I didn’t think he actually counted each of the cookies. Dreamweaver was right—he’s totally a money-grubber. She sighed. Well, guess I’ll have to go one more day before I can make my move. “I don’t hear any work going on in there, girl!” Cotton’s eyes widened. “I am, Mr. Cutter!” She grabbed the chocolate chips, then collected her other ingredients. Ж “See you tomorrow, Mr. Cutter,” Cotton said through the crack in the kitchen door. “Tomorrow,” Cookie Cutter grunted back. Cotton rolled her eyes as she put on her saddlebag. I can’t wait to call him out. Then, he’ll actually let me run the register, and give me the credit I deserve! She exited the kitchen and locked the door, then walked down the alley and out to the sidewalk. Just as she was about to lift off, she noticed a crumpled piece of parchment rolling across her front hooves. She watched the parchment roll down to the corner. She was about to simply dismiss it when she heard a whistle from the other direction. She turned her head to see where the parchment had come from, and found a smiling stallion waving at her from a short distance away. Dreamweaver approached her, still smiling. “Awesome, I was hoping I wouldn’t scare you.” Cotton smiled back. “Hey! How’d you know I’d—” “Apprenticeships usually run similarly to school hours. I figured you’d be leaving around now,” he replied. “I saw the cookie label hadn’t changed when I came in at lunch, so I thought I’d try to catch you. You didn’t call Cutter out yet, did you?” Shaking her head, Cotton answered, “Not yet. You’re actually the exact pony I wanted to see—I was hoping you could help me out with that.” “Sure thing. What do you want me to do?” Dreamweaver asked. “Well, I think the best way to get him to admit to stealing my recipe is for somebody to ask him for it. He won’t know it, so he’ll have to admit that, and then I can call him out at the end of the day and say I heard him.” Dreamweaver frowned. “That’s a solid idea, but what if he just says the recipe’s a secret?” Cotton slumped her shoulders. “Shoot, I didn’t think of that.” “I could just call him out on it right there.” Furrowing her brows, Cotton shook her head. “No, if he tries to pull that, I’ll just come out of the kitchen and do it. I’m fine asking for help, but I need to stand up for myself.” Dreamweaver smiled. “Sounds fair to me. Let’s hope things go your way tomorrow.” He held up a hoof to her. “Yep,” Cotton responded simply, bumping his hoof. “Thanks a lot for the help.” “You’re welcome,” he said with a nod. He turned around and walked down the sidewalk, and Cotton flew off toward the castle. Ж After a quick conversation with Mortar and Howitzer, Cotton walked through the castle’s main doors. “Hey, everyone!” “Good afternoon, Cotton,” the guards responded, a little less cheery than usual. Cotton tilted her head, then saw another familiar guard approaching her. “Bastion! What are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be at my dad’s doors with Ravelin.” Bastion nodded. “I still am, but your dad wanted me to bring you to him when you got back.” As the two of them approached the stairs, Cotton said, “You sound a little more… stern than usual, Bastion. Everything okay?” The guard let out a breath. “Talk to your dad.” Cotton’s eyebrows made her worry apparent as they ascended the staircase and walked towards Spike’s room. “Is… is he mad at me? Did I do some—” “No, you didn’t,” Bastion answered, shaking his head. “I can tell you that much.” As they arrived at Spike’s doors, Cotton addressed the other stationed guard. “Hey, Ravelin. What’s going on?” Ravelin shook his head. “Talk to your dad, Cotton.” Cotton sighed. “Well, I obviously have no choice.” She opened her father’s doors and walked into the massive room, closing the doors behind her with a dull boom. She found Spike’s back to her, along with what sounded like crying and deep breaths. “Daddy? What’s going on?” Spike’s earfins lifted, then he turned his head around. He let out a deep sigh before he said, “Hey there, sweetie. I’m glad you’re home. Could you come here for a minute?” “Sure,” she replied, nodding as she approached her father. As she neared him, the crying became progressively louder. When she got close enough, she saw her aunt Twilight laying next to Spike’s claw; she had been the source of the tears. At least, a source. “Aunt Twilight? What’s wrong?” Twilight looked up, her eyes bloodshot. She sniffled once, then said, “H-hello, Cotton. H-how was w-work?” Cotton tilted her head. “Uh… alright.” She walked closer, then repeated, “What’s wrong, Aunt Twilight?” Twilight took a few breaths. “I… I…” She sniffled again and shook her head. As Cotton turned to look at her father, she noticed a guest laying by Spike’s other claw, her face buried between his talons and also crying. “Aunt Cadance? What…” She stopped herself, shifting her gaze between the two princesses. Cadance sniffled, then slowly lifted her head to look at Cotton. Her eyes were also red and bloodshot, but her tears flowed more freely than her sister-in-law’s. After another sniffle, she shook her head and buried her muzzle in Spike’s talons again. Cotton looked up at her father, and she noticed that despite his neutral expression, he also had streaks down his cheeks. She looked around the room, first at Twilight, then Cadance, then her father, who looked back down at her, silent. After another moment, it clicked. Her eyes widened as her muzzle fell slightly open. Spike caught her expression, and he simply nodded, then a tear squeezed its way out of his massive eye. Cotton slowly raised a hoof to her muzzle, her eyes once again shifting between the room’s occupants before they settled on Cadance. “Oh no…”