• Published 13th Sep 2013
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A Daughter and her Dragon - Level Dasher



Spike longed for years to have a family of his own. With Twilight's help, he applies for adoption. But what is it like to be raised by royalty?

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Chapter Fifty-Two - ...And Desserts

Cotton and her three aunts sat at the dining table, each with three slices of Prench toast on their plates. Cotton had already eaten half of one slice in the kitchen to taste before serving.

“So? How’s round two?” she asked after swallowing another bite. “I’ve never made Prench toast before, so any criticism is welcome; I won’t take offense to anything. Not to toot my own horn, but I think it came out really nicely.”

All three of her aunts wore smiles and raised eyebrows. “‘Tis quite wonderful, Cotton,” Luna answered first. “If We may say so, they are not quite as delectable as thy pancakes, but still most pleasing to the tongue.” After taking another bite and chewing some more, she swallowed before adding, “Personally, We wouldst enjoy a bit more cinnamon.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s just right,” Twilight responded from beside her. “Sometimes too much cinnamon gives a little kickback. This is just right for me.”

“You’re allowed to have different opinions,” Cotton said with a smile. Then she turned to Celestia. “How about you, Auntie Tia? You aren’t scarfing it down like you did yesterday. I don’t know if I should be offended or not,” she giggled.

Swallowing first, the princess replied, “I agree with Luna on both accounts. They’re very good, no doubt about it, but not quite on par with your pancakes. And I think some more cinnamon would do nicely. I like the extra kick that cinnamon gives.”

Cotton nodded. “Good to know. I’m with Aunt Twilight, I like the cinnamon level as it is, but I can always put more on other pieces in the future. Since I’m not as familiar with Prench toast, I didn’t improvise with anything like I did with the pancakes yesterday; I just followed the regular recipe Tasty Twist showed me. That may be why the pancakes were better.”

“That’s a fair point,” Twilight responded. “Your baking always turns out better when you use your own touch.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cotton said. Finishing off her plate, she got up from the table and continued, “I’m gonna go help Dad. That okay?”

“Indeed,” Luna responded.

“Of course,” Twilight added.

“Absolutely,” Celestia finished. “By the way, do you still intend to take your little day trip this afternoon?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Cotton smirked as she walked around to the other side of the table. “Yep. Is it okay if I go see my friends while I’m out?”

Nodding, Celestia replied, “I would actually prefer it if you do. Could you please go to your friend Daisy’s house? I asked for a construction crew to be sent there early this morning to start on repairs. I would like to know if that process has at least begun.”

“I can definitely do that,” Cotton said. “While I’m at it, is there anyone else you want me to check on? There were a bunch of ponies that needed something similar.”

“That’s not necessary,” Celestia responded. “They aren’t your responsibility. I would simply like you to check on your friend since you intend to see her anyway.”

Nodding herself, Cotton said, “Gotcha. Thanks. Is there a time you want me home by?”

“That’s a question for your father,” Celestia replied, “but it would be nice to see you for dinner, so I would like to say six o’clock.”

Cotton shrugged. “That’s fair. I’ll go ask him.” She gave all three of them quick pecks on the cheek, then went for the stairs. “I’ll see you all later! Have a good sleep, Aunt Luna!”

“We thank thee, dear Cotton. And We thank thee for dinner! Or, breakfast, We suppose.”

“Thank you, Cotton!” Twilight and Celestia both called, as if an afterthought.

“You’re welcome!” Cotton giggled as she ascended the stairs.

Ж

Gulping down another bucket of water, Spike wiped his lips and said, “Ahh, thank you, sweetie. So, how was breakfast?”

“It was good!” Cotton replied. “Tasty Twist suggested eggs tomorrow.” She futilely tried looking over Spike’s body to his other side where a massive bowl of gems had been set for him. “Do you have enough gems?”

Turning his head in the opposite direction, Spike pulled the bowl up towards his face and took a glance inside as best he could with his head still flat on the floor. “Actually, I am getting a bit low. I had enough for breakfast, but this would be a pretty skimpy lunch. Maybe an afternoon snack.”

“I can get some for you before I go out today,” Cotton responded, “don’t worry.”

Spike flipped his head back towards her and raised a brow. “Go out? Where are y— Oh yes, you wanted to go see your old boss, didn’t you?” he chuckled. “I really shouldn’t be condoning this, but given you don’t want him arrested for fraud like Twilight confirmed we could do, I think I can allow you to be a bit petty instead.”

Cotton giggled. “Thanks, Daddy. Auntie Tia actually asked me to go see my friend Daisy, too, to check on her house—she was in court yesterday—so I don’t really know how long I’ll be gone. Is there a time you want me home by? Auntie Tia said she’d like me to be back by six so we could all have dinner, but that it’s really up to you. I’d kinda like to see Flarechaser and Harmony, too, if that’s okay. But I dunno, they may not actually be available.”

Letting out a quick hum, Spike answered, “Well, since your aunt is letting you pass on court today, and she wants you to check on one of them anyway, I don’t see any reason to prevent you from spending the day with your friends. I agree with Celestia, just be home by six. And don’t pull any funny business while you’re out, okay?”

“I won’t, Daddy, I promise,” she replied, pecking him on the cheek.

“Good girl,” Spike said, kissing her back. Getting a look at his clock, he added, “Hey, looks like it’s eleven-thirty. You’re getting close to lunchtime.”

Her head spinning towards his clock, Cotton responded, “You’re right! I should eat before I leave. See ya, Daddy!” She gave him a quick nuzzle, then flew out of his room.

Chuckling to himself, Spike said aloud, “Prison or petty revenge? I’m not sure which is worse.”

Ж

As she flew over the park, Cotton thought to herself, Huh, weird coming this way knowing I’m gonna be on the other side of the counter. She reflexively landed in front of the alley that would have led her to the back of the shop, but instead she continued up the sidewalk, then turned the corner and headed towards the front entrance. When the main room of the shop came into sight through the windows, Cotton stopped in front and looked through the glass. Despite the front sign reading ‘open,’ she found no sign of Dreamweaver or the baker. Damn, she thought. Guess he stopped coming after we figured out what Cutter was doing. And he’s probably in the back waiting for the bell. I’ll have to do this without anyone wat—

“Miss Cotton!”

Turning around at the call, Cotton found herself face to face with the elderly Slip Stitch. “Mrs. Stitch! How are you? How’s the construction go—” She cut herself off as she realized something. “Was your house damaged during the war?”

The mare smiled as she shook her head. “Thankfully, no. My whole block was spared. And construction is going quite well, thank you. But what about you? You live in the castle; you weren’t anywhere near the battle, were you?”

“No, I was in the kitchen,” Cotton replied with a smile. “I was baking for the troops.”

Tilting her head at Cotton, Mrs. Stitch asked, “You bake? Then if I may ask, what are you doing coming here?”

Cotton blanched for a moment, then she responded, “Oh, I uh, I’ve been coming here for a while. I… I’ve uh, gotten some inspiration… from some of the sweets from here...?”

“Ah, understandable.” Opening the door with her aura, she tilted her head toward the inner room of the shop and said, “After you, dear.”

“Oh, no, please,” Cotton responded, gesturing inside with her hoof, “you first. I’ve got it.” She held up her hoof toward the door, and Mrs. Stitch walked through before dropping her aura so Cotton could catch it.

“You’re very sweet, Miss Cotton. Although I don’t know what else I would have expected,” the mare said with a smile.

Cotton smiled in return. “Thank you, Mrs. Stitch. But please, just call me ‘Cotton.’ I only have ponies call me ‘Miss’ in court because I figure it’s appropriate for someone sitting on a throne to have some kind of… well, I guess you could call it a title,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t really like having one otherwise.”

With a happy sigh, Mrs. Stitch said, “You’re such a humble filly. If you were my granddaughter I’d be pinching your cheeks.” The two of them laughed before she knocked on the counter and called, “Mr. Cutter! Are you here?”

“Just a minute!” came a voice from the back.

Surveying the display, Cotton quirked an eyebrow when she saw a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the right side, the same label above them: ‘Cutter’s Special Cookies.’ Tapping on Mrs. Stitch’s shoulder, she asked, “Ma’am, what do you think of Mr. Cutter’s special cookies?”

“Oh, they’re absolutely delicious,” the mare replied. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve had one, though. Possibly about a month.”

As Mr. Cutter came through the kitchen door, he said, “How can I help…” Catching sight of Cotton, he froze in his tracks, then finished, “…youuu…?”

Cotton just stood there, an eyebrow cocked and a smirk across her face.

“I’d like two of your chocolate chip cookies, please,” Mrs. Stitch ordered. Standing stock still, the baker’s eyes glazed over for a moment. “Mr. Cutter?”

Shaking his head from his daze, he responded, “Uh, yes ma’am. That’ll be four bits.” He put the cookies in a bag, then waited for Mrs. Stitch to place her bits on the counter before giving it to her.

“Thank you.” Turning to Cotton before heading for the door, she smiled and said, “I hope to see you around again, Cotton. Have a wonderful day.”

Smiling back, Cotton responded, “You too, Mrs. Stitch. Oh, before you go…” She glanced back at Mr. Cutter with no particular emotion. “How are the cookies? It’s been a while since I’ve had one myself.”

Picking one of the cookies out of her bag with her horn, the mare replied, “Oh, I’m sure they’re still fantastic.” She took a bite and chewed for a moment, then her eyebrows furrowed slightly. She swallowed, then turned back to the baker. “Mr. Cutter, have you changed your recipe? These cookies don’t… Well, they taste… different, than the last time I had one.”

Cotton could see the beads of sweat dripping down Cookie Cutter’s face as he switched his gaze between the mare and the filly, whose eyebrows had shot up as she looked at him with a smug smirk. “I’m… tweaking the recipe a bit, yes.”

Shaking her head, the mare said, “You shouldn’t. The recipe you were using was delicious. Don’t fix what isn’t broken.” As Cotton held in her laughter, Mrs. Stitch continued, “How long have you been selling them this way? Since before I came in last week?”

It was the baker’s turn to furrow his brows. “You came in last week?”

“Oh, that’s right, you weren’t here. An overwhelmed young mare in the back told me you were running an errand,” Mrs. Stitch responded. “You really should have had her covering the register in your stead; I can only assume she had to turn away your other customers as well.”

Cotton gasped as she pointed her hoof at the mare. “That was you! I thought that voice sounded familiar!”

Tilting her head, Mrs. Stitch asked Cotton, “What do you— Wait. Was that you back there? You work here?”

Cotton pursed her lips as she realized what she’d said. “…Oops.”

“‘Oops’ what, dear?”

As the baker stood in shock, Cotton turned to him and said, “Heh, sorry, Mr. Cutter.” She shrugged a clearly unapologetic shrug. “I was gonna keep it hush-hush. Guess I blew it.”

“Girl, please don’t,” he begged her.

“Well, it’s out in the open now.” Guess I can just pile it all on him now with a witness. A good one, too. She turned back to the elderly mare and said, “I did work here. Then I found out he was taking credit for my cookie recipe, so I quit on Thursday. Day after I found out my Uncle Shining passed away. He wasn’t gonna let me go to the service.”

The baker’s and the mare’s eyes widened as they both cried, “Prince Shining Armor?”

Cotton sat on her haunches and nodded. “Mhm.”

“Girl, why you didn’t you tell me your uncle was Shining Armor?”

Mrs. Stitch turned on the baker with fire in her eyes. “She shouldn’t have needed to! Why in Equestria would you not let this lovely filly go to a family funeral?” She then looked at the bag in her hoof. “And she made those delicious cookies that you were calling your own? Shame on you! No wonder these taste pale by comparison.” She walked up to the trash bin by the door and threw both cookies to the bottom. Looking at Cotton, she said, “You should sell those cookies yourself, young lady; you’d make a fortune.” Turning back to Mr. Cutter one more time, she growled, “You’ll never see me walk through these doors again!” She opened the door, but before stepping through, she looked at Cotton once more and smiled. “Have a pleasant day, Cotton. As I said, I hope to see you around again.” She walked through the door, then turned right and walked down the street with a scowl.

Cookie Cutter sank onto his haunches and looked at Cotton over the counter. “Why are you here, girl? Haven’t you punished me enough? What, did you come to tell me I’m going to jail or something?”

Cotton smirked. “Actually, I could; technically you committed fraud by taking credit for my recipe.” The baker’s eyes bulged until Cotton continued, “But no, I’m not gonna do that.” The baker let out a sigh of relief at that. “I wasn’t expecting Mrs. Stitch to be here. I actually just came here to talk; maybe make you stew a little.”

“Well you’re doing a good job…” Mr. Cutter groaned. He sighed, then asked her, “Why didn’t you tell me who you were, girl?”

“Why don’t you ever call me by my name?” Cotton snapped at him.

“Nothing on you,” he grumbled. “For anyone that isn’t family, it’s either ‘boy,’ ‘girl,’ ‘sir,’ or ‘ma’am’ from me. Or ‘Your Highness.’”

Cotton glared at him. “Don’t you see how impersonal that is? Like, I might as well be an object instead of a pony. But to answer your question with another question… would you have treated me any differently?”

After a moment of silence, the baker replied, “If I’m being straight with you, yes, probably.”

“And that’s why. I don’t like being treated like I’m royalty. Yeah, maybe I use my connections once in a while, but nine times out of ten it isn’t for my own benefit. Lemme ask you, if you had known who I was from the beginning, would you have even taken me on in the first place?”

Cookie Cutter stayed silent, struggling for an answer.

Eventually, Cotton just said, “Didn’t think so. I went to at least five other bakers before I came to you. I told them who I was, and they turned me down. I didn’t tell you who I was, and you didn’t. Why those other bakers didn’t want a ‘Royal’ working with them, I dunno. Maybe they thought they’d get blamed if I got hurt.

“But that isn’t what matters. What matters is, long story short, you’re just a straight-up jerk.”

The baker snorted. After a beat, he responded, “Oh, sure, a royal, with a silver spoon in her mouth, is gonna tell me about being a jerk. You’ve no idea how the other half lives, girl.”

Leaning against the counter, Cotton’s tone softened as she continued, “I wasn’t always a royal. I know exactly what it’s like. You’re still a jerk.

“Look, I didn’t come here to slander you or anything. Mrs. Stitch, I dunno, but not me. Like I said, I wasn’t expecting her to be here. She just was.”

“But why did you tell her everything?” Cutter asked with a huff.

“Would you have rathered I told my aunts?”

The baker stared at her. “You didn’t?”

“Not until after you came to the court yesterday. I kinda had to after you dashed out of the throne room; Aunt Celestia asked me about it. I even gave you a chance to act natural when I said the ‘something on my face’ bit, but given what you did afterwards, what choice did I really have?” As Mr. Cutter grunted, she tilted her head at him. “What were you there for, anyway?”

“Same as the girl in front of me,” he answered. “My house got damaged during the war; whatever those cretins did when they were fixing it, it didn’t hold. Part of my roof caved in.”

Cotton put a hoof to her face. “Mr. Cutter, that’s not something you leave alone. My aunt already said nobody should be paying for any repairs relating to the war.” She sighed. “Look, come back to the afternoon court tomorrow. I’ll be there. And I’ll make sure my aunt doesn’t arrest you. She wants to—all three do—but I told them not to.”

The baker just looked at her with wide eyes for a few seconds. “…Well… thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anyway.” She paused for a beat. “Now you know what my deal is… I’m not gonna slander you or put up flyers saying you’re a crook or anything, I just don’t want you taking credit for my stuff. I’m not coming back here after this, and clearly neither is Mrs. Stitch now that she knows what you did.”

“Speaking of which,” the baker started, “did you talk to the boy?”

Cocking a brow, Cotton asked, “You mean Dreamweaver?”

Cookie Cutter shrugged. “I guess. Did you? He didn’t come in yesterday, and he asked me about your recipe the same day you left.”

“So he did do it,” Cotton said with a smile. “Yeah, he’s an old friend of mine. He’s actually the one that figured out what you were doing. I asked him to help me, and obviously he tried, but I wasn’t here.”

Mr. Cutter sighed again. “Well, that’s another customer gone.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any pity for you, Mr. Cutter. This is totally your fault.” Cotton let out a quick breath. “Look, I’m not gonna rub it in any more. I came to tell you my deal and make you stew. Obviously I succeeded in both.” She rose to her hooves and walked toward the door. “Anyone else would probably wonder why I’m saying this, but… have a nice day, Mr. Cutter. Hopefully I’ll see you in the court tomorrow.” She walked out, turned left, and walked down the road, out of the baker’s sight.

“…Have a good one… Cotton Candy.”

Ж

“Wait, seriously?” Daisy cried. “How did I not know about any of this?”

“Well I only just found out myself last week,” Cotton replied. “And I haven’t exactly had a chance to see you lately. Other than yesterday, but that doesn’t count.”

Daisy groaned. “I know, sorry. I’ve just been in the flower shop with my parents most days. Rosebud hasn’t been feeling well for a while. I’m only here today to keep an eye on the construction crew.” She smiled. “By the way, tell Princess Celestia we want to give her a serious thank-you. She was on top of this like ice cream on apple pie.” When Cotton cocked a brow at her, she giggled and responded, “Something I picked up in Dodge City. There were Appleloosans there a few times.”

“Gotcha,” Cotton chuckled. Letting out a sigh, she said, “I actually feel kinda bad. I know Mr. Cutter was a total jerk, but you should’ve seen the way he looked when I left. It looked like I had kicked a puppy.”

“Wasn’t that your goal?”

Cringing, Cotton replied, “Well, yes… but I didn’t want to feel guilty about it. I didn’t want him to give up on life. I think I overdid it telling Mrs. Stitch everything he did.”

“The old mare?”

“Yeah. It was like watching a grandmother giving a grandson a good spanking.” When Daisy raised an eyebrow, Cotton added, “With words, obviously.”

“Got it,” Daisy responded. Tilting her head, she asked Cotton, “So what are you gonna do now that you quit? Are you gonna like, be a part-time princess or something?”

Cotton laughed, shaking her head. “No. I was just in the court because I like, don’t really know what I wanna do. My dad wants me to either get another job or go to school. I’m doing… well, stuff, around the castle while I think about it.”

“So you’re helping Princess Celestia in court?”

“That, and I’ve also made breakfast a few times. You should try my pancakes,” she said with a smirk. “They’re princess-approved.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Personally, I’d say go to school. Harmony’s at CU, and didn’t you say your buddy Crimson was up at Cloudsdale?”

Cotton shrugged. “Yeah, but CU seems to be mostly magic-focused. I doubt I’d have any classes with Harmony. And I bet you a hundred bits that even if I didn’t tell anybody, it’d get out that I’m ‘royalty’ at Cloudsdale, and I’d probably either be swarmed or avoided at all costs.”

Frowning, Daisy responded, “Okay, I see your point. Well, it sounds like you already made that decision; why don’t you go looking for work?”

“Honestly, I dunno what I’d do. I’ve already gone to all the bakers in the city, and none of them will take me.”

“Well… Flare's been helping Zora-Terra with the hatchlings at the Changeling hive. Why don’t you go help out at your old orphanage? They’d probably love to have you there.”

Cotton’s eyes widened. “That’s not a bad idea, actually. I could totally do that.” Then she let out a sigh. “But I dunno if I wanna go back to basically living in the orphanage, even if I’m, well, not. I mean, volunteering an hour or two every so often would be fine, but every day? I don’t think I could do that. It’d just be…" She paused. "…It’s hard to explain. That place holds a lot of pain.”

Shrugging a shoulder, Daisy said, “Yeah, I guess that’s understandable. It’s a good backup plan, though.”

“Yeah, totally." She let out a sigh. "By the way, remind me: next time all four of us get together, I need to tell you girls something.”

Daisy cocked a brow at her. "…Okay. You know the suspense is gonna kill me, right?"

With a low chuckle, Cotton replied, "Yeah, I know. You'll have to deal."

“Pfft. Thanks." Just then, Daisy's eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, I just realized something—you said you’re basically working at the castle while you’re making up your mind, right?” she asked.

Cotton nodded. “Yeah, basically. Wh— Wait, you mean—”

“Yeah! Why don’t you ask your dad if he’ll pay you for it?”

Wrinkling her snout, Cotton answered, “My dad actually did suggest me staying in the castle to work. He didn’t say anything about paying me, but I’d still like to actually leave the castle once in a while.”

“I seriously doubt he won’t let you leave, Cotton. It’s not like he’s a slave driver.”

“I know, but I’d still basically be spending most of my day at home. I mean, so far I’ve only sat in court and made breakfast a few times.”

“And there isn’t anything else you could do?”

Cotton shrugged a shoulder. “Well, I’m sure there’s something, but…” She blushed and rubbed one of her forelegs. “…I am royalty. There are some things I’d just, like… not want to do.”

Daisy smirked and nudged her in the shoulder. “Hey, look at you! Showing a little vanity.”

“Shut up,” Cotton said, nudging her back. She sighed. “I mean, honestly, I’d love to be able to just bake in the long run. I…” She furrowed her brows for a moment as she thought back to something Mrs. Stitch—and her friend—had said, then her eyes widened as a light bulb went on over her head. “Harmony.”

“What about her?” Daisy asked, cocking a brow. “She’s in class.”

“She was right.” Cotton quickly turned around and flew off.

“RIGHT ABOUT WHAT?” Daisy called after her.

“I’LL TELL YOU LATER!”

Ж

Cotton pushed open the doors to her father’s room. “Hey, Dad? Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Oh! Hey, sweetie!” Spike glanced at his clock. “It’s only a little after three; what are you doing back so early? I assumed you would be gone for at least another hour or two.” He smirked. “How did your meeting with your boss go?”

As she approached her father’s head, she answered, “I guess you could say better than I expected. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Well, you sound quite serious. Is everything okay?” he asked, his head turning to her.

“No, yeah, everything’s fine,” Cotton replied. “I just want to talk to you about what I wanna do. Y’know, the whole ‘work or school’ thing.”

Spike’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Did you make up your mind? Faster than most fillies your age.”

“Yeah, but it may not be what you’re expecting.”

Eyeing her suspiciously, Spike asked, “Am I not going to like what you’re about to say?”

“No, no!” Cotton responded, waving a hoof. “You actually suggested the first part.”

“There are parts?”

Cotton nodded. “Yeah. So, here, first part: I’m gonna need some money, and I wanna earn it honestly, not just ask you for it. So, since you suggested me working here in the castle, could you like, pay me for it?” she asked, cringing slightly as she awaited his response.

“…Hmm. I was joking about that. And you did say you wouldn’t want to.”

“I know,” Cotton said, “but at least I’d be doing something I know. Or at least something I know would be helpful here if you ask me to do something other than cook and sit with Auntie Tia in court.”

Raising his brows as he nodded, Spike responded, “I might be able to do that. I could talk to your aunts and see if they agree that it’s feasible.”

Cotton smiled as she hugged her father’s snout. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t said yes. So, what’s part two?”

“Oh! Right, the important part.” Cotton stepped back and looked him in the eye again. “Well, it’s the reason I need the money. I’ll need my own space.”

Spike smirked. “Space for what?”

Cotton let out a deep breath.

“I wanna open my own bakery.”

END ACT THREE

Author's Note:

Yep. This is indeed the end of Act Three. I found it to be an appropriate break point, considering how the next chapter begins. I can tell you now that there's another time lapse, but it isn't be a horribly long one.

In case the last few chapters haven't made it clear, we're sticking to the slice-of-life stuff that you all seem to have hung around for going forward. And I know that many of you have questions; I promise, they will be answered. In time.


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