• Published 17th Apr 2012
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A Sweet Taste of Cake - The Descendant



As they make a gingerbread house the Cakes reflect on their struggles, their lives, and their love.

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A Parting of Ways

Chapter 4: A Parting of Ways


As much as they had wanted to spend this time together, just the two of them in the scent of the gingerbread and the warmth of the oven, the simple fact was that they had other duties to attend to at the same time.

It was Hearth's Warming Eve, and as the regular customers began to enter, she went off to see to their needs. As they did, those with special holiday orders began arriving too, each one asking for their treasures.

He listened to her adorable voice ring out, speak familiar names that answered her with holiday greetings, many even calling out to him over the counter. He replied, his voice filling the room for the first time that morning, exchanging with them wishes of happiness.

He saw her still running back and forth, fetching the orders, and soon he sought to assist her.

She stopped him at the door, gently placing her hoof to his chest. He looked down at her with a puzzled expression. At once, she lifted her hoof and pointed out the frosting that sat resolutely upon his nose.

He looked at it cross-eyed once more, and they giggled in tune. It would hardly do to have the paying public see him so adorned, even if it had a holiday flair. He consented to let her deal with those in the shop beyond while he returned to working on the gingerbread house, letting his wife see to the customers.

Sometimes, they knew, you have to be apart from those you would rather be very near. This was but one of the many lessons they had learned in their lives together, and one that would sadly repeat itself…

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Carrot awoke early, made his way first to the bathroom and then down the small hallway.

He paused at the top of the stairs, listened at the door of the bedroom. A breath lingered there, still sounding out peacefully even as the dawn broke through the house. With a sigh of relief, he went down the stairs on silent hooves.

The early morning light of the summer day caught across all of the items he had made the night before. He glanced them over one more time and then began to pack them away in their containers.

Slowly, he placed all of the baked goods within the saddlebags and turned to make himself breakfast.

As always, he made her some too, left the small meal sitting there, possibly for hours. Today though some small movement at the top of the stairs caught his ears, and even as he gathered up his saddlebags her hooves came down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Oh… are you leaving already?" came a drawn out voice, one that seemed almost worn away. "Today was the day you were telling me about, right? I didn't want to miss it. Today is your last day at the mill, right?"

He turned to face the white mare and gave her a smile.

"Yes mom, today is my last day," Carrot said as she looked up at him.

"Okay, oh, I… I didn't think to buy you anything or…" she began. Carrot looked down and saw how lost she seemed, almost floating in her own thoughts.

"That's okay, mom, you don't need to buy me anything for my last day on the job!" he answered as he forced a small laugh. "If you'd like to, you can buy me something when I open my bakery."

At the mention of the shop, her eyes rose to meet his. The lines beneath them wrinkled first into a small smile and then deflated. As they did her, head fell lower and her entire frail, thin frame seemed to be highlighted by it.

"Mom," he said as his hooves sounded out across the old familiar floorboards, "are… mom, are you going to be alright with me moving out? You haven't said much about it since I told you I closed on the bake shop."

"It's, it's only natural for a colt to want his own space," she said, her eyes moving from side to side, seeming to look at everything in the room except for him, "especially when he has a marefriend."

"Cupcake has been asking about you," he said, lowering his head to look at her. "Would-would you like to meet her?"

The question brought his mother's eyes back up. An expression of happy surprise grew there.

"Do-do you mean it? I mean, you don't have to, but if you do I'd… I'd love to meet her," exclaimed the older mare. "Would you want her to meet… meet me?"

Carrot stepped forward and laid his head across her withers. With a sound of relief, she lifted her own head to the withers of her tall son, letting it rest upon the amber-colored colt.

"Of course, mom," he said as he released her, "I'd love to have her meet you. I'm sure she'll think you're great."

She stood there running her hoof up and down his foreleg, her smile still evident even as she slowly began to lower her head once more.

"Breakfast is on the table," Carrot said, motioning to the little meal that sat on the dinette set, "banana bread and some fruit… don't let it sit and dry up, okay?"

"I have such a good son," she said, taking a step back as he opened the door, "so thoughtful of his old mother!"

"Have a good day, mom. I love you," he said, trotting out into the warm air of the summer morning.

"I love you Carrot, have a good last day," she replied as he looked at her over his shoulder.

She watched him trot down the road to the corner, and then he was gone. She stood in the doorway for a while after that, feeling the heat of the morning, and then slowly closed the door.

She walked slowly back into the kitchen to study the breakfast that the colt had made for her. Cheesecake sat over the meal, looking down upon it. He had made it for her, as he always had, and now all she could do was stare at it.

Of course he had made it for her. He had made her breakfast, and often dinner, for years. If he had not learned to bake, they probably would have both starved to death. He had earned his mark out of need, not pleasure. If he had not learned to bake, he would have gone off to school most morning with an empty stomach.

The morning he had earned the cutie mark that stood upon him, perhaps the most important moment in the life of a pony, she had been upstairs asleep in her bed with some stallion whose name she could not even remember.

She looked down at the banana bread, the slices of cantaloupe and melon, the perfect presentation laid out for her by a colt who loved her. In a flash, all the stallions who had passed through her life that she could say that about drove through her mind: her father, Carrot… and Carrot's father.

She stared back down into her breakfast, saw it already turning dry at the edges as it sat in the sun that streamed in through the windows. As she did, she thought about her freckled, amber-coated colt once more. Despite all that she had put him through, he still loved her. He still wanted her to be part of his life as it unfolded.

Now that she wanted to give him something, to be the mother she should have been, she had nothing left to give.

As Cheesecake stared down at the plate, small tinkling sounds rose from it, and she realized that it was the chime of her own tears striking the surface.



"… and of course I bought the more expensive one."

"Oh, yes… of course," mouthed Cupcake, placing the butter and cream back among the small mountain of ice. Soon, she slid down the line of the buffet, adjusting small items here and there.

To her disgust, the stallion followed along just as he had been since Cupcake had heard him mention her name… her name and the name of one of her father's businesses.

As the breakfast began to wind down, she looked to her employer, Canapés, as she walked among the guests of the country club, chatting with them as she gathered up used plates and old glasses.

As this arrogant colt continued to go on and on and on about his lifestyle in a vain attempt to impress her, Cupcake could already sense where he was going, already knew that he would show his cards early.

As she poured some juices for some older ponies, she tried to return their smiles, but as this conceited colt continued his diatribe, he completely misread every signal she sent him.

She wished Canapés would come over and simply give her some orders that took her far away from this colt, perhaps out to the cart to put away the plates, or begin gathering up all the tools that the caterers had brought with them from Canapés shop.

Instead, all she could do was stand there and mouth little responses to the colt's statements about his wealth, his family's aristocratic background, and make little noncommittal statements in reply as she wiped her hooves across the black apron.

"Uh huh, oh yes," she would state, her eyes focusing far away. "Oh, certainly."

"Very good!" he answered. "Saturday then?"

"What?" asked Cupcake, snapping back to attention, an awful realization striking her.

"When shall I pick you up?" he asked, his eyebrows arching in something he may have assumed resembled a pose of seduction but which instead more closely resembled the pose taken by those having some sort of stroke.

"I'm, I'm sorry! No, no…" she exclaimed, her hoof coming to her mouth. "I-I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood… I, I can't, I… no, sorry… E-excuse me, I must speak with my supervisor."

At once, she began to walk away. To her horror, he followed. As the last few ponies departing the breakfast went past her she heard him calling to her.

"Maybe Sunday, then? You know, I am familiar with your family…"

Cupcake's legs buckled slightly. For what seemed like the thousandth time in her life, a young stallion betrayed his real interest in her.

"… and I'd love to meet your father. I have a real knack for business and…"

An awful shock went along her body, a feeling of revulsion that swept through her. As though in slow-motion, she turned and looked back to see this colt's hoof upon her, literally grabbing for her as he saw his chance for personal advancement escaping his "charms."

"Don't touch me!" she brayed aloud. "Don't you touch me!"

At once the sound of crashing silverware arose from across the room. Canapés, her fellow employee Serving Spoon, and the few remaining patrons of the breakfast looked to where Cupcake stood, the stallion hovering close by.

"No! I said no! Leave me alone!" she cried as she turned and ran, actually giving a small kick as a wild horse would, non-Equestrian in both form and biology.

As Cupcake pelted through the distant glass doors that lined the large sunlit room, the stallion turned and looked over the few ponies within. Seeing none that he considered a threat to his status, he let a smirk cross his lips.

"That's funny," he said to the room at large as he departed, "the fat ones usually appreciate being chatted up!"

Serving Spoon heaved with nausea at the statement. With a nod to Canapés he went out to seek Cupcake.

Cupcake had run far out into the grounds of the country club. She knew that coming here had been a mistake. She had been here too many times with Ivory, too many ponies here knew her, knew how powerful and well-off her father was even if few knew him personally.

She should have gone with Hors D'oeuvres, Canapés partner. She should have switched with one of the other employees and gone to cater the event up the hill in Canterlot. Instead she had chosen this one because she had hoped to be done in time to get to Carrot's party at the mill…

… but that hope had fled away as the guests slowly ate and talked, as Canapés agreed to take on lunch as well. Now she simply found a large tree to lean against as she shook.

Before long, the voice of Serving Spoon echoed across the manicured lawns. She looked up to see him trip slightly as he stepped upon some golf balls on the putting green.

"I-I'm over here!" she called, giving a small sob as she did. With that, he trotted over and stood with her, knowing that all she really needed was someone to be close by.

Serving Spoon himself was in love, in a relationship that was flowering, and together they had "compared notes." The colt knew the feelings that were welling inside her. So, he stood with her and then sat when she sat and awaited Canapés.

Before too long, Cupcake saw Serving Spoon stand. He waved his foreleg across the air, and soon the older mare was with them.

"Serving Spoon?" she asked. "Would you start getting the lunch buffet ready?"

"Sure," he said. "Sure."

He started to move with his foreleg raised and a look of worry falling over him. He leaned down and asked "Cupcake?" in a fretful tone.

She smiled up to him, and with that he smiled and was off.

"Oh, Canapés! I'm sorry! After my outburst, after that, they'll never hire you here again!" said Cupcake, placing her head across the lap of this older mare.

"Sorry nothing, my dear," said the wide voice of the unicorn, "after that they owe you an apology, if anything."

The silence hung there.

"Do, do you want me to report him to the club manager? He shouldn't have touched…"

"No," replied Cupcake, turning her head to look over the green lawns and fairways beyond. "No. He… he wasn't any different from all the rest, don'tcha know? All of the colts who just want something from me… to get closer to my father, saw me as a way to…"

Cupcake trailed off. She knew that almost all of them had only seen her as a prospect. In her mind, she saw all of their opportunistic faces, all of those colts, and she shuddered at the thought of all of their horrible little plans for her.

Instead, she made a list of all of the colts and stallions that loved her without question, who knew her: her grandfathers, her father, her brothers… and Carrot.

"There's only one colt who loves me for me," she said, blinking as the wetness rolled down her face and into the black apron of her employer, "only one colt who doesn't want anything from me."

"Ah, your coltfriend, eh?" replied the older mare as she fixed Cupcake's hair with her magic. "I'm happy that you've found a pony like that, Cupcake. It's so very wonderful."

"Oh, Canapés, I want to be with him right now," said Cupcake as she looked to the blue sky. In her mind she felt Carrot's forelegs around her, driving the remembrance of the foreign, revolting grasp of the arrogant colt from her body. She felt his presence falling over her and imagined him near her, thought of herself in his reassuring embrace.

"I want him to be holding me right now," she said with a whimper. "I want my Carrot."

"Well, I… I think that Serving Spoon and I could manage if you needed to head off," said Canapés as she gently patted the young mare on the head.

Cupcake raised herself up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hooves. "No," she said softly, looking to Canapés, "I-I promised you I'd stay, and…

"Are you sure?" asked the older mare, rising to her hooves.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure," answered Cupcake. Canapés stared at her for a second and then spoke to her in happy, contemplative tones.

"Cupcake," she began, "when Ivory asked me to take you on, I was at first a little suspicious. Especially since, you can imagine, you're going to be my competition some day."

Cupcake raised her head and wondered where the conversation was going.

"But," continued the older mare, "Cupcake, you've been nothing but an asset to me from the day you started. I… well, I know that you're using the money to help your coltfriend start a business, and… and well, I'd like to say I wish you the best… both of you. If you feel that strongly for him he must be special."

Cupcake smiled back, leaned in to hug her employer. With that, the two went off to see to lunch.



Trammel pulled the safety.

It was no accident or scene of lovey-dovey frou-frou nonsense as had been witnessed upon the bagging floor in the past that caused him to do so. Instead, today was to be a celebration, and it was time for the festivities to begin.

"Step to, lads!" called the big stallion. "We've our Soap Suds and Carrot Cake here to lament upon, so all you lot downstairs!"

With that, Carrot pulled his very last bag of flour from beneath the spigot, placed it upon the containers, and watched it disappear down into the bowels of the mill with a certain pride and a small smile upon his face.

Even as he left the bagging stall for the last time, other colts and fillies were already around him and Soap Suds, making little signs of appreciation and wishing them luck.

Soon, almost all had disappeared down the stairs. As Carrot looked on Trammel, congratulated Soap Suds for finding something to match his mark, and with that he too went down the stairs.

Trammel turned to Carrot and smiled at him. "Come now, my fine fellow!" said the stallion. "Can hardly have a party without one of the guests of honor, now can we?"

Carrot returned the smile and looked up to the stallion. "Trammel," he said slowly, "I-I just want to, to…"

"Eh? What is this all about?" asked Trammel, giving a nervous laugh. Carrot sighed and then continued.

"Trammel," he said, once again attempting the line of thought he had begun, "I-I never knew my dad… my grandfather died a few years ago, and… and I just want to say it's been great, it's been great having an older stallion that I could ask… about things. You know, to ask things about how it should all be going with Cupcake. I just-just want to say thanks…"

Trammel chuckled, did not know how he felt about being called "an older stallion." But, he understood, Carrot was being genuinely grateful.

All that needs to be said about what happened next is "awkward guy hug," and the two went down the stairs as well. With that, Carrot embraced the strings of causality around him and closed the chapter of his life that involved the bagging stall.

As the party continued, Ledger reflected upon the table spread before him. Usually, when workers in his mill left during the summer in pursuit of their marks, it was the ice cream that disappeared first, and the cake and cookies and such were the ones left shimmering in the midday sun.

As he lifted his head along the picnic table, he saw the order reversed. Today it was the products of young Mr. Carrot Cake, now leaving his employ, which had been anxiously gathered by those who now sat on the blankets, and it was the ice cream that was in danger of melting.

He looked up to see that colt gathering up plates and saying his goodbyes.

Ledger saw his daughter Ivory speaking with various workers too. All too soon she would be leaving him and her mother, departing their big house where she had lived all of her life and off to her internship in Canterlot. As he pondered the fact that his little filly was so grown up, he suddenly felt the need to ingest as much ice cream as he could get away with without seeming a glutton.

He listened as he heard two ponies she had just spoken to talk about her.

"That filly's almost too smart, you know. Clever pony that one. She'll be running her father's mill inside a decade!"

"The mill? Ha! Mark my words, she'll be runnin' all of Ponyville!"

Ledger almost choked on his ice cream while he tried to eat it and laugh at the statements. His daughter was smart… smart enough to know that running the mill was not her forte.

Politics however…

"Mr. Ledger, sir?"

Ledger put down the tub of vanilla ice cream and turned to face Carrot with a wide smile and an offered hoof.

"Well Carrot, mah' colt," he said as they shook hooves, "turning out then? Best of luck, and do not hesitate to ask if you need anything. I mean anything!"

"Thank-thank you, sir, I really appreciate it. The bonus… the bonus check was almost too generous," said Carrot, lifting his head and trying to show his appreciation through a wide smile.

"Same as anypony gets from me when they go off to make their mark, mah' colt," said Ledger leaning in deeper, "and, Carrot, best of luck in everything… and I mean everything."

It took Carrot a second to get the drift, but when he did he smiled once more. "Thank you sir, I'm-I'm hoping for the best in that regard too."

With that, Carrot completed his goodbyes and with one last long look upon the big brick structure, he departed the mill.

As he crossed around the building, he came to the bridge. Something spun through him as his hooves hit the planks. In that moment, he realized he was actually unemployed… that until the bakery opened, he would have no income. He stopped on the bridge to listen and watch the big mill wheel go around and around with wet sounds.

He looked down into the millpond, felt the river flowing into it, and there he saw the reflection of an amber-coated colt staring up to him.

Freckles. Under bite. Thin.

All of the old worries floated through him, all of the uncertainties. He was taking a risk. He was going out into the world pilotless, knowing only that he knew to bake and hoping that… that if he got the business going, well, she would be able to finally let go.

What ever "This" was, the thing that Cupcake was keeping a secret from him, he hoped against all hope that it could end when she saw that he could make it. As he stared into the reflection, he hoped that he could prove that he could provide for her, for them, that he was willing to do anything for her.

And with that, all would be possible.

Carrot stared down as the mill wheel splashed about. At once he was puzzled. A new reflection had appeared there. After an instant of pondering he knew who it was, and he turned to her.

"Oh! Miss Ivory! I'm sorry, I was just…" he began.

"Carrot," she said, tilting her head as her forelegs rested upon the railing of the bridge, "you've known me for these many months, been dating my best friend, and you still can't bring yourself to call me Ivory? I had hoped by this point you'd be at 'Ive'!"

"Oh, really, but… you, you never told me I could, ya' see," he spoke as he returned to standing on the bridge. She sighed and did the same.

"Walk with me, would you, Carrot?" she asked. With that the strings of causality stretched and pulled him away from the mill and towards a dim path that led to a beautiful horizon.

The two went down into Ponyville, many ponies stopping to greet Ivory. Some even smiled at Carrot and spoke with him as well. Even though he could not remember ever meeting them, they all somehow seemed to know him. He nodded politely as Ivory introduced him.

Within him a realization grew, and he gave a small gasp. These were players; they were pieces in "The Game of This."

Together they walked as the warm summer afternoon played out around them.

"Miss Ivory," he said, watching her grimace as he used her title once again, "I-I want to thank you for all you've done for me, getting the shop ready, for… for Cupcake and I."

Ivory nodded her head. It was obvious, of course, what she had been doing all along. He had noted it back at the table at the dancehall, had seen Ivory guiding Cupcake towards him all along. Now, as they stood outside his shop, he could only ask why.

He looked up to the improvised sign above the door. "Opening Soon!" it read in a bold font, "Carrot Cake's Bakery Co., L.L.C., Inc."

He looked up to see a dubious wrinkle across the face of the mare. "I'm-I'm gonna think of a better name…" he stated.

"Yes," she said, "that would be for the best."

He opened the door, was a little embarrassed to have her see how cluttered and unprepared everything was.

Ivory looked up as something metallic rang out. With the chiming of the bell, his bonus check dropped into the cash register. It was an older one… large, heavy and seemingly made of brass. Carrot had sat up all night teaching himself how to make it work its magic. How did anyone expect their hooves to use these tiny keys?

Somehow it did open at his awkward touch, and as he looked down, he was rather pleased to see something actually sitting inside the drawer apart from some paperclips and a dust bunny.

"Miss Ivory," he asked, blanching a little bit as she sighed at the use of her title once more, "I-I have to ask. Why… would you tell me why you tried so hard, to get Cupcake and I together?"

"Because you use proper language, 'Cupcake and I'," she said with a smirk.

Carrot was a touch confused. He walked slowly from behind the counter and joined Ivory in looking through the dirty windows of the shop. Ponies went by, happy in their routines and enjoying the summer's day that filled the shop with stifling, humid air.

"Cupcake is my dearest friend, Carrot," Ivory said, not looking away from the window, but instead still gazing out into the street. "She has been since her family and mine became close. We went to private school together, have spent almost all of our free time together. I know her better than any other pony, probably her own family."

Carrot turned to look at her. He marveled at how easy words were for this mare, how calmly she was able to express her ideas, how quickly she was able to add flourish to emphasize her meaning. Perhaps politics would work for her?

"She's clever, sneaky when she needs to be, decisive. I've always been fond of that part of her, and I see in you that you appreciate that too," she said, not moving her head.

He nodded.

"None of the other colts did," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

Ivory startled herself. She shook slightly and turned to face Carrot. She pondered the look he was wearing. Soon she realized he was reflecting on a phrase she had uttered. "The other colts" hung in his expression.

"You're not like them, Carrot," she said as she sat, carefully choosing her words. "I know you, you see. From the moment I saw your jaw drop open as she walked by on your first day at the mill, I've been… getting to know you."

Carrot's eyes arched high.

"Forgive me," she said, looking away deep into the shop. She looked back to him, saw him nod. The understanding part of him that she knew Cupcake adored was still there.

"You, you are aware, of course about Cupcake… keeping certain aspects of her life from you," she spoke quietly. She was surprised as he gave a self-conscious laugh.

"Yeah, yeah… I-I call it 'The Game of This.' I don't know what 'This' thing is, but I-I know it's important to her, so I play it. I-I'll play it as long as it takes," he said, turning his own head to look out over the street, "until she feels it's safe to stop."

"Yes," replied Ivory after a short while, "that's, that's an excellent metaphor for it, Carrot."

He smiled back at her. As the two sat there, the sunlight fell across them, and a single green and blue fly bumbled its way across the big pane of glass, its wings humming.

"Carrot," she spoke, "the game."

He looked to her, wondered deeply if he had somehow just lost control of his metaphor.

"To win the game, Carrot," she continued, "all you have to do is be yourself. All that she wants and needs from you is to know that you're not like the other colts, the colts who saw her as something they could use. You're set up to win, everyone in this town desperately wants you to win, I want you to win… Cupcake needs you to win."

His ears perked up and drew in her words.

"I-I know the difficulties you've been through in your life… never having known your father, your mother's… confusing, confusing situation. How you've had to essentially raise yourself. How despite these things you've remained you. You've become you, the loving, caring, considerate colt… no, stallion that you are."

To his surprise, Ivory inched forward, coming closer to him and raising her head to meet his.

"Do not tell Cupcake I said this under any circumstances," she spoke in a forcible, earnest tone, "but, Carrot, you do not always have to wait for permission. At times, it could even be fatal. The time will come when to win 'This', as you call it, you may have to let your love guide you."

The mare's grey mane shifted, made her look older, as though she had been thinking about this for months. In the very roots he saw the pink that she hid from the world.

"You do love her, don't you Carrot?" she asked.

"Yes, I do. I've never loved any mare more," he answered without hesitation.

"Then that is all it takes," she said as a smile crossed her face. "I leave for my internship in a few weeks. I'm going to be up in Canterlot. I'll be working under a Vice Chamberlain of Parliament… a V.C. Fancypants, apparently."

"I'm so glad for you… Ivory," replied Carrot, now understanding her earlier statement fully.

She smiled, gave a self-conscious laugh of her own.

"I leave her with you, Carrot. Cupcake, the one you put first. It's going to be hard for you, as without my house she'll have to… well, that's a secret. But, Carrot, no matter how hard it gets, I trust you. I trust in your love for her… and, Carrot, there's no pony I'd trust more with something so dear to me as my best friend."

Carrot took a deep breath and looked back to her. Slowly, gingerly the two leaned together. Ivory was not as warm, her hug not nearly as personal as the ones Cupcake gave so willingly. Yet the emotion was there, and Carrot accepted it happily.

She asked for no party. Something about the guest list bothered her. Within three weeks, Ivory was gone, departing on a morning train along the winding tracks through the mountains to the capital beyond.