//------------------------------// // A Slice of Life: Cake // Story: A Slice of Life: Journey // by Scarheart //------------------------------// Celestia had to follow the trail meandering before her through the palace. The great alicorn moved at a quick walk, not quite a trot. Her golden shoes and crown were gone and her torc was nowhere to be found. Those things were uncomfortable to begin with. Ahead of her echoed the giggles of her intended prey who thought escape was a viable option. The alicorn sighed, looking down at the floor, the  visible trail her intended target had left behind.     This happened almost every time. It was a game of sorts, one that often tested the patience of the alicorn, even more so than when dealing with the yak ambassador! The nannies had tried to warn Celestia.     “I am not running after you, young lady!” she declared half singing, half announcing. The trail was quite obvious in telling her where her quarry was trying to go. Under her breath, she muttered, “This is your father’s fault.”     Well, it was, she reasoned to herself as she rounded a corner. Stoic guards remained in place between the ornate pillars. The trail took a curious turn, straight towards the one on the right. The stallion had been hugged. The water stains on his coat and droplets on his polished armor attested to this. The assault had been devastating, for the bearing of the poor sot was one of indignant outrage, but not for the hug. His partner across the hall in the other nook was fighting the peals of laughter threatening to break his own professionalism. Celestia knew her guards by name, mostly. The mare bore her smile, one that both pitied and preserved personal dignity. She could not bear to let her guards see the state she truly felt: frustration. One quirked eyebrow tossed casually at them had a pair of hooves rise and point in the direction Celestia was already going.     “Go sort yourself out, Private Bubbles,” she told the partially wet stallion. “Your shift is almost over anyway.” She pressed on, her mission taking on more urgency now.     Celestia had given her nannies the night off, with the belief she needed to spend more time with Sunshine. Celestia had heard stories from the same army of nannies (spared no expense!) she had at her disposal, but she had never before seen for herself the absolute chore it was in preparing her daughter for bed.     Sunshine was three and she already had the castle staff on their collective knees.     Luna had proclaimed she had for herself seen the antics of her niece, even as Celestia was bogged down in her paperwork in her office. As of late, the work had piled up and the meticulous mind of the ancient mare absolutely refused to let her sparse off some of the work to other ponies. Certain things, she felt, needed her touch. As a result, Celestia had to admit ashamedly she simply had little time for her daughter.     Friend tried to be understanding, but Celestia knew her husband was beginning to show fraying patience. His choice of words the past three weeks wormed in the way only guilt could. Celestia knew she should have been spending more time with her family, but there were so many negotiations to be done! Trade agreements! Re-examinations of peace treaties to conform with new laws! Queen Chrysalis was angling for negotiations towards peace from the undeclared war turned mutual cease fire. Changelings were showing up in droves in Equestrian cities in peaceful groups and accepting internment from the local authorities. It was a throbbing headache to go with the missives from their ruler expressing the desire to bury the hatchet and move towards peaceful coexistence. Matters were not helped with how smug the changeling queen’s letters were upon reading them. She always was asking how the family was doing.     Celestia sighed. Chrysalis did a marvelous job in testing the alicorn’s patience. That bug horse needed to mind her own business!     Soapy suds dotted the polished floor here and there, a trail that was more or less straight. There was less water on the floor. Sunshine was drying herself off by depositing her bathwater everywhere. It was an obvious trail. The maids were already showing up to clean up the sudsy mess. They were used to this.     “Here she goes again,” one muttered to another. They had their backs to the princess.     “Excuse me, my little ponies,” called out Celestia. “Did you see my daughter come through here?” Both maids jumped with a start, whirling around to face their ruler before dropping into low bows. “Please rise.”     “Yes, princess,” said the second maid. She paused in her mopping and pointed further down the corridor. “I do believe she was heading in the direction of the kitchens.”     “Oh dear,” Celestia muttered as she picked up her pace. “Thank you, ladies!” She moved past them, her gilded hooves clip-clopping with more urgency. Her eyes might have been a tad wider. Was she going to have to do this all over again? Her mane trailed in front of her. One of these days, it would trail behind her when she moved forward!     One day!     Her motherly instincts had her in full worry mode. She had thought everything was under control! Not five minutes ago, she had her daughter in the tub, filled with bubbles, a rubber ducky, a loofa, and a plastic Twilight doll (with a seapony tail!). At that point, Sunshine had been happily splashing in the water and Celestia bathed her, wondering why the nannies had such a difficult time with the girl. The fact she was in all appearances human like her father in spite of her pony heritage.     A distraction pulled her attention from the tub, a noise just outside the room. Celestia never knew what it was, but when she returned to the bath, there was no more Sunshine. The echoes of a mischievous giggle was all that was left….that and a huge puddle of bubbles and water on the bathroom floor. The trail indicated Sunshine had gone rogue, straight out the bathroom, across her room, past the mounds of neatly stacked toys and stuffed animals, and straight into the hallways and beyond.     And of course she would neglect covering herself! Modesty and a three year old child did not a combination make. Especially in a society where clothing was optional to begin with.     Celestia could have teleported to her daughter, but another part of her wanted to understand what it was that drove Sunshine to these antics. She suspected it was a game to the little girl. Toddlers had to roam free, Friend had once told her. In his past life, he had gone through this, raising children. Two of them, sharing the duties of parenthood with a loving wife. He had a wonderful life, as much as he could have possibly hoped for.     Coming to Equestria had devastated him. Then the changelings found him. Chrysalis could have killed him. Friend had once recalled he felt his life could have ended at any moment once the queen’s curiosity of him had waned and she had grown bored with him.     Still, events and circumstances eventually led Friend to the alicorn’s doorstep. In a way, she was grateful to Chrysalis. Sunshine was an indirect result of Chrysalis’ actions. Celestia was not quite sure what to make of this particular thought.     The marks on the floor had by now been reduced to a few drops here and there, as the child had deposited most of her bubbles upon the guard. Celestia figured she was less than a minute behind Sunshine, for she could still hear laughter up ahead of her. It was the laugh of a child who knew she was being chased and loved every minute of it. It was the attention she sought, and Celestia had given it to her, much to the alicorn’s chagrin.     Somewhere within the ancient mare, a tiny filly cheered. Celestia tried hard to be sensible, to be the sort of mother she felt she excelled at as a teacher over her countless students she had loved as though they had been her own. Raising a precocious child like Sunshine reminded her there was a serious lack of experience when it came to foals under the age of six.     When was the last time she had foaled and raised a little one? It had been centuries. The business of running the country had left the alicorn little time to devote herself to motherhood. Back then, the father was anonymous, some unknown stallion the alicorn had dallied with for a week while in disguise. The town he had hailed from no longer existed. Celestia had left, found herself pregnant not long after, and raised a filly.     She missed her daughter. Her family line had grown from that little filly and eventually Sunset Shimmer met and became the student of her great-great-great-great…     Celestia shook her head as she really did not enjoy dwelling on the number of ‘greats’ that came before the word grandmother. As she continued her pursuit of Sunshine, she wondered if it was time to call Sunset home, or if a trip should be arranged to go through the mirror and show Sunset how the family had grown. The unicorn really needed to come home. Living on the other side of the world in a self-imposed exile had to end. Celestia had forgiven her and wanted Sunset to return. Family was important, even if it was a long and distant one.     The mare was always planning, discarding plans, reworking plans. It was a part of how she had become. Being the sole immortal pony to lead a growing nation of mortal ponies had a lot to do with how she thought and how she approached certain problems.     Right now, her focus shifted, going back to the task at hoof. There was a wet child running through Canterlot, making for the kitchen. Normally, Celestia would have teleported to her daughter, but Sunshine surged often with her magic, making the air around her magically unstable. Incoming magic reacted oddly. Twilight had once teleported into Sunshine’s room to deliver a book with which to read the little one to sleep. A surge happened as Sunshine felt her purple pony pal popping in. As uncontrolled magic flared from the excited child, all Twilight’s fur fell off of her body seconds after appearing in the room. There were feathers everywhere and the horrified scream of the Princess of Friendship had shattered more than a few windows.     Friend could not stop laughing, no matter who much he tried to apologize and help the traumatized young alicorn.     “Oh, Sunshiiiiiine!” she sang, now greatly amused at the memory of her poor former student. She loved Twilight as a daughter and the alicorn was included in all family events, but a bit of a phobia developed on Sunshine. Twilight never teleported near the child again and was still to this day trying to delve into the workings of the child’s magic. Losing her fur and feathers had opened the doors to a study of new magic. It was possible the magic field around Sunshine was a form of defensive mechanism. Twilight even suggested trying low level offensive spells around Sunshine, but Celestia had put her hoof down with that.     By now, the halls had narrowed as the princess went to the places where the ponies who worked in the castle hustled and bustled, doing the real work that kept the palace running. The little ponies who did the work of making Celestia’s home look as perfect and pristine as possible.     Luna’s moon cast its light through the narrow windows as it peeked through the thin layers of clouds. Rain would be coming in the morning. Celestia’s sister was no doubt preparing for her evening of an hour of court followed by her patrolling of dreams. As the thought of her sister came to the front of her thoughts, she sent a mental embrace to the Princess of the Night. It was reciprocated.     Sunshine get away from you? teased Luna mildly.     Celestia rolled her eyes as she came to the threshold leading into the kitchen. Blow it out your ear, dear sister mine, she retorted pleasantly.     Luna’s laughter echoed in her mind. Call if you require assistance, sister. Night court is boring this eve. I should like to see my niece before you put her to bed.     I will let you know, Lulu. If I can get my hooves on my husband’s daughter.     I thought she was your daughter, Tia.     Are you looking to adopt?     I will await until Friend is mine to ravish appropriately. Have you contacted Cadence on the matter? She has yet to respond to my missive.     It has only been a week. She is a busy mare. The Crystal Ponies need a lot of work, patience, and love. And there is Flurry Heart, Celestia reminded her wryly.     We should get them together again.     Celestia snorted as she scanned the kitchen. It did not take long to see Sunshine had left her mark everywhere. Something tugged at her brain to look up and she did so. There was molasses on the ceiling, as well as flower, as well as other various ingredients for making dishes the alicorn could not quite make out. There was the sound of clashing pots and pans to her right, drawing an ear to swivel. Her head followed, bringing the other ear to bear. The alicorn realized her jaw had started to hang and she blinked.     “Sunny?” she called out, her eyes scanning over the prep tables and countertops, formerly clean and shining. Another magic surge had happened due to the girl’s excitement and the kitchen had exploded in the child’s excitement.     Celestia adjusted her wings, ruffled her feathers. Her tail flicked as she knew her little bundle of joy had turned the kitchen into a scene of utter chaos. The kitchen staff would have a collective heart attack and her head chef would no doubt spontaneously combust. Hop Chop was prone to fits of righteous rage when it came to a dirty kitchen. The unicorn was renowned for his temper, which was almost as legendary as his cooking. He made a magnificent Prench onion soup and it had become a favorite of Celestia’s husband.     Another giggle. “Mommy?”     Slowly, Celestia worked her way around the tables, stepping through piles of flour spilled from broken bags. Containers of spices had exploded and there was a dusty haze here and there from where Sunshine’s magic had imploded anything that could contain something. Celestia’s brow creased in worry as she picked up her pace. There were shards of glass everywhere. Her horn flared and the shards rose from where they had fallen. Another surge of magic and a moment of concentration mated pieces up with each other, sealing breaks, and making what was once broken whole again. The alicorn’s magic sought out more broken glass as she poured more magic from her horn, encompassing the room. She also had to suppress her daughter’s magic by establishing a field around the child. It was an invisible bubble, and to this point the only one that could contain Sunshine’s uncontrollable magic.     There was a connection between mother and daughter that allowed Celestia to handle Sunshine. Friend could also pick up his daughter and play with her with absolutely no ill effects. It was suspected but not yet confirmed the presence of either parent naturally rebuffed the chaos that was the child’s magic. Luna to some extent enjoyed the same ability to keep Sunshine’s magical surges to a relative minor annoyance. Of course, one of the first displays of what was the child’s potential was revealed when Luna had raised the moon with her niece watching. Sunshine had been perched on her aunt’s back, watched the moon rise, and became excited. She surged, reached tiny hands towards the celestial object, and to Luna’s shock and surprise, grasped the moon with her magic. For the next five minutes, she joyfully bobbed the moon up and down in the sky near the horizon, sending a fit of panic across the world. Luna was able to wrest control back after picking her jaw up off the floor and finally getting over her laughter from the whole incident.     Celestia had not been amused.     Like Twilight, young Sunshine was exceptionally gifted with magic. Both were similar in raw potential. Celestia expected great things from her daughter. First, the kitchen had to survive, along with the rest of Canterlot the surges of a most unusual and special child.     “Sunshine?” Celestia eased the repaired glass containers upon the countertop. The mare craned her neck around a corner, noting the mess had grown exponentially. Having just been bathed and cleaned, she was not at all surprised she came to view the fruit of her womb sitting in the middle of a once cake on the floor. Sunshine’s face was already smeared with frosting and crumbs, her cheeks bulging with cake.     Celestia mourned the cake that was no more. It had ceased to be. It was a once cake. Her heart broke a little as she realized it was a marble cake. Her thoughts shifted to a mild case of horror as she realized there was caffeine in the cake. She was also saddened to discover she was denied the first slice, the first taste. Celestia had an unspoken love affair with cake. It had been her coping mechanism shortly after her sister’s banishment. It had grown and become a regular part of her habits. Indulging in cake was a joy unto itself. Sunshine had denied her dibs. Sunshine had denied her mother cake through the act of sitting in it, fresh from a bath, having hugged a guard, exploding the kitchen, and promptly sitting in the heart of a cake that no doubt would have been delicious and decadent.     “Cake?” Sunshine offered without shame, holding up mushed cake in her hands as an offering to her near teary eyed mother. Sunshine knew better than to throw food. “Love you, mommy!”     Celestia, the most patient mother in all the world, gazed down upon her daughter, then at the peace offering. She sighed, closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten. When she opened her eyes, she smiled, chuckling to herself.     “I love you too. You are so much my daughter.”     Of course, there was going to be another bath....