Seeing Red (Velvet)

by TheTwelfthDoctor

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Random, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1045

It might be the middle of the night, and the royal pastry chef might be sound asleep, but Princess Celestia's sweet tooth sure isn't! If Her Majesty wants some cake, well, first she'll have to bake.

It might be the middle of the night, and the royal pastry chef might be sound asleep, but Princess Celestia's sweet tooth sure isn't! If Her Majesty wants some cake, well, first she'll have to bake.

Published 2013-12-18 05:40:03 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-18 05:40:03 UTC

Seeing Red (Velvet)

Seeing Red (Velvet)
by TheTwelfthDoctor

Princess Celestia was being a very naughty princess.

She was staying up past her bedtime.

Not that she needed sleep, per se -- immortals were precluded from that requirement -- but getting a few winks in every night did help to keep the princess in at least a slightly friendly humour.

Celestia's insomnia was the least of her worries, however -- the sizeable stack of papers on her desk were what really mattered. One-hundred and seventy-four neatly collated pieces of parchment, concerning everything from foreign relations to financial appropriations.

The princess sipped slowly from a tall stemmed glass of wine as she considered the next year's budget. As usual, Parliament had been unable to come to an agreement on anything, and Celestia had decided to just do the darned thing herself. She couldn't risk a government shutdown, something that had happened only a handful of times before.

Her stomach growled its displeasure, having not been fed anything in quite a while.

Celestia sighed and pushed back her chair.

"I really could murder a piece of cake right now," she mused, softly walking out of the room and into the adjacent kitchenette she had put it in for emergencies such as the one she currently found herself in.

Humming an unplaceable tune softly under her breath, Celestia went about retrieving a small plate and dessert fork. When she picked up the well-used pie server and lifted the cover on the cake plate, however, Celestia let out a soft gasp.

There was no cake. Only small, dried-up crumbs.

Celestia's stomach growled again.

"Shut up, I'm working on it," she snapped, consulting a cookbook. On the counter before her lay a macabre array of cooking instruments that glinted in the soft moonlight. Among them were a bundt pan, mixing bowl, whisk, measuring cup, and pastry bag.

"I really need to put the pastry chef on-call at all hours," Celestia grumbled as she fished through the refrigerator for an egg. "I don't remember the last time I actually baked something, after all."

With her materials in order, Celestia began to obey the recipe's directions. The book's picture of the end result -- a sinful red velvet cake slathered in lashings of cream cheese frosting -- caused her mouth to start salivating as she carefully measured out her flour, dumping it into the bowl.

The rest of the dry ingredients followed: a pinch of salt, a cup of sugar, and half a tin of cocoa. After a few tosses with the whisk, Celestia added in the wet components, too -- the egg, a stick of butter, some milk, a vial of vanilla, and, most importantly, a drop of red food colouring.

Celestia beat furiously with the whisk some more, causing flecks of red batter to fly out of the bowl and stick to the walls. Eventually, a vivacious red paste lay in the bowl before her. The princess-turned-baker gave a slight smile of satisfaction as she spooned the mixture into the bundt pan, slid it into the oven, and set a timer for half an hour.

"I can almost taste it," Celestia half-lamented as she left the kitchenette to get back to work.

Half an hour of paperwork-signing and wine-drinking later, the timer dinged, and Celestia darted up like a rocket to remove her masterpiece from the oven. Once she removed the pan, however, she got a nasty surprise.

The cake was completely flat.

Celestia sighed and checked over the recipe again, scratching her forehead with a hoof. After a minute of close examination, she discovered the root of the problem.

She had forgotten the baking powder.

"A minor setback," she remarked, resolving to make another cake. The book informed her that there was little to do with the reject cake, and so off it went into the bin. Shortly thereafter, the hardening batter on the walls was joined by some new spots as Celestia worked quickly to make up for lost time. So quickly, in fact, that she neglected to reset the timer...

The pungent, acrid smell of smoke slowly wafted across the room. Celestia's nostrils flared reflexively as the odor washed over her.

"What is that?" she asked of nopony in particular. It took a few moments for realization to sink in.

The princess said some very un-princess-like words.

The second cake came out to a charred, stuck-to-the-pan crisp. It, too, found itself in the bin, and Celestia gnashed her teeth as she found herself going through the motions a third time. Remembering to both add the baking powder and turn on the timer, Celestia, after saying a brief prayer to herself, returned to her real work -- of which she had gotten very little done over the past few hours.

Celestia licked her lips as the third cake emerged in perfect condition -- fully-risen, coloured a deep red, and smelling of rich chocolate.

"Mmm..."

Her confection was not quite complete, though, without the frosting. The steadfast cookbook made it look simple enough -- toss a sack of sugar, two sticks of butter, and a pound of cream cheese into a bowl, and whisk until smooth.

"Surely I can't screw up something as simple as that," Celestia smirked, rolling her eyes lightly as she dumped the blocks of cheese into the bowl, followed by the butter and sugar.

Her attempts to start whisking the three together were met by resistance, however, as the large chunks of fattening dairy in the bowl proved to be too much for the poor, wiry utensil.

So Celestia, in a moment of sheer, unabated genius, picked up another whisk and used both.

She wasn't quite sure what happened next. Perhaps she put too much power into her telekinesis. Perhaps the laws of physics ceased to apply to the bowl. Perhaps she went into a sugar-induced coma.

In any event, Celestia's next conscious moments were spent sprawled on the floor of the kitchenette, the morning sun streaming in through the window, her body matted with oh-so-creamy, creamy frosting, and one very, very confused pastry chef staring down at her.

"If zhou vanted my help, Zhour Majesty, all zhou had to do vaz ask."

Author's Note