My Big Fat Griffon Wedding

“Whew! I never knew so much work went into baking bread!”

Gallus, a white sheet pinned around his waist for an apron, stood at the counter kneading dough in a large wooden bowl. Flour covered his talons and face making the blue griffon look like he was wearing a mask. “I thought you just mixed it up and baked it. I didn’t know you had to do all this kneading.”

“Bread takes a while to make,” agreed Cinnamon Roll, looking over his shoulder to review his progress. “But it’s worth it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the blue griffon grumbled, giving the dough an extra hard push. “I thought you’d have me mixing batter or icing cakes. I didn’t think I’d be doing this.”

Cinnamon smirked. “Maybe I should have started you off with foal-sized dough and let you bake it in a patty pan,” she teased.

Gallus shot her a dirty look. “I’m fine with this, thanks!”

“Don’t tease him, Cherie,” said Gulliand gently. The griffon chef was busy cutting up a chicken and dropping the pieces into a pot of hot water. “This is his first time kneading bread. Besides,” he added, with a mischievous grin. “Didn’t you have problems making your first loaf?”

Cinnamon Roll blushed. “Yeah. I forgot to add the salt.”

“That’s it?” asked Gallus.

“No. I was embarrassed and didn’t want Granny to know that I messed up, so I threw it in the trash can.”

“Aaaaand?” Gulliand prompted.

The little filly’s face burned even redder. “UGH! I should have known leavin’ you alone with Granny was a bad idea! Anyway, the dough started to rise in the can. It got so big, it lifted the lid right off. Granny saw it and started yelling that there was a blob monster in the house. Uncle Discord and Aunt Fluttershy were visitin’ at the time. When Discord found out about the monster, he charged into the kitchen on the back of a flyin’ pig and tried to fight it with a flyswatter. He wasn’t too disappointed when he found out it was just bread dough. He took it outside, turned it into an army of evil bread ponies and he, Pa, and Uncle Big Mac had fun fightin’ a battle with ‘em.”

Gallus gave Cinnamon Roll a long deadpan stare. “You tell some of the weirdest stories,” he said.

Gulliand giggled. “You get used to it.”

“I think that the dough has been kneaded enough,” said Cinnamon Roll, changing the subject. “Let it rest a few minutes then we’ll put it in the pan.”

“About time!” Gallus stepped back and shook out his talons. He turned to Gulliand who was still cutting up chicken. “What are you making, again? Jumble-something…”

“Jambalaya!”

“Which explains nothing. What is it?”

“It is a dish containing chicken, sausage, rice, onion and hot Bayou spices. Very savory and very delicious.”

“Sounds like chicken bog,” replied Gallus drily. “I hope it’s better than that stuff Gino makes. His bog always turns out crunchy.”

“He’s probably not puttin’ enough water in with the rice,” Cinnamon Roll suggested as she put the bread away. “That will make it crunchy.”

“Who is Gino?” asked Gulliand. “Does he sell prepared food in the market as well?”

“Naw! He’s this guy I get meals from sometimes. He lets me eat whatever’s left over in exchange for work or whatever I can scrounge up.”

Cinnamon Roll and Gulliand shared a look.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that working for us,” said Gulliand. “We feed our employees and offer them a fair wage.”

“And Gulliand’s rice is never crunchy,” said Cinnamon Roll. “Not even at the bottom of the pot.”

“That’s cool,” said Gallus. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“Well, you can help me ice the sugar nests,” said Cinnamon. “A pair of talons would certainly come in handy.”

She showed him how to hold the bag and how to squeeze the icing onto the cakes. The blue griffon caught on fast, drizzling the strings of buttercream so it looked almost like an actual nest. Cinnamon was impressed by his talent. She let him finish the nests while she decorated the cake ball eggs.

“You beat me at workin’ that stuff,” she said to Gallus when they finally finished the cakes. “You have a good eye for detail, too. Maybe next time I can show you how to make scalloped edges.”

The blue griffon grinned at the praise but only replied with “Yeah, okay.”

“I believe we can handle things from here,” said Gulliand, pulling out the bit sack. He handed some coins to the little griffon who eagerly counted them out before putting them away in a little bag he kept around his neck. “Come back tomorrow early. We’ll all eat breakfast before going to the marketplace.”

“Will do,” said Gallus with a mock salute.

“And here is your dinner.” The griffon chef handed him a pie tin filled with savory smelling meat and covered in a buttery crust. “Chicken pie.”

“Sweet!” cried Gallus, taking the pan and giving it a long appreciative sniff. “Thanks, guys! See ya tomorrow!”

“That poor boy,” Cinnamon Roll murmured once the griffon had left. “I just can’t imagine a child having to be on his own like that. It just breaks my heart.”

“I know, Cherie,” said Gulliand softly. He wrapped his arms around her and warmly pressed his cheek against hers. “But, we are offering him a fair wage and food which is more than anyone else has done.” The griffon caressed her cheek with his beak. “Now, let’s finish up. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow!”

The next morning was fine and warm with only a few clouds in a bright blue sky. All this beauty seemed lost on the griffons who opened their stalls wearing the same sullen faces they always sported. A trio consisting of two griffons and a brown pony were the only exceptions.

Cinnamon Roll took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “Oh, what a beautiful morning!”

Gulliand, carrying his pot of jambalaya, nodded in agreement. “A beautiful day!”

A nearby griffon nudged his partner. “Bet ya two bits the pony starts singing.”

“I got a beautiful feeeeeling," Cinnamon trilled. "Everything’s goin’ my way!”

The griffon smirked as his partner paid up. “Told ya!”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Gallus warned in a low voice. “Singing is against the law here.”

The little pony was shocked. “Really? I could be put in jail just for singin’?”

The blue griffon shrugged. “They might give you a fine. If any cop heard you, that is. Of course, there aren’t too many cops around, so you’re safe.”

The group arrived at their booth and prepared to set up shop. Gulliand plunked down his pot and set out the bowls and spoons while Cinnamon and Gallus set up the cakes and the breads. The brown pony regarded the nest-like cakes with pride and a little worry.

“I hope the griffons like these,” she fretted. “We put a lot of work into ‘em.”

Gallus winced. “You won’t be mad at me if they don’t,” he asked hesitantly. “I mean…since I kinda gave you the idea and all.”

“Of course not!” Cinnamon exclaimed, giving him a quick one armed hug. “It’s a great idea. It’s not your fault if it doesn’t work out.”

Gallus blushed. “Thanks,” he muttered as he gently removed her arm from his shoulder. “Just making sure.”

The traffic in the market was starting to pick up. Cinnamon Roll called out their wares, encouraging griffons to slow down and take a look. Despite her worries, three Sugar Nests were sold within the first hour. Gulliand was also doing well with his jambalaya. No creature in Griffonstone had ever eaten the dish before so they were reluctant to try it at first. However, once they got a whiff of the savory sausage and chicken concoction, they were convinced to give it a whirl. Soon, the dirty dishes were starting to stack up.

“I’ll take this load back to the house,” Gallus told Cinnamon Roll. “I’ll be right back!”

The pony just nodded. She was busy with customers wanting to know about her bread rolls.

“They look good,” said one, eyeing the fat, golden brown bread. “Why are they so shiny?”

“I give ‘em a little brush of melted butter after they’re baked,” said Cinnamon Roll proudly. “It gives ‘em a rich flavor.”

“Good enough for me! Gimmee five!”

The little pony complied, placing the rolls in a brown paper bag and handing it to the griffon. By the time Gallus returned with the clean dishes, the bread was almost all gone.

“Uh, Cinnamon Roll,” said Gallus, giving her a small tap on the shoulder. “I think we might have a problem.”

“What?” Cinnamon turned to look at him. “What do you mean? What’s goin’ on?”

“Well,” he looked worriedly in the direction of the house. “You know that griffoness who makes the scones?”

The brown pony stiffened. “Gilda? Yes, I know her. What about her?”

“Well, she’s got a stall just down the road a bit. I passed it while taking the stuff to be washed.”

“Okay.” Cinnamon nodded. “But that hasn’t affected us. Why do you think it’s a problem?”

“She’s smack talking your business! I heard her telling griffs that you use gypsum instead of real sugar and that your flour is all weevily.”

“What! It is not!”

“She also said that it's bad for the economy when ponies start stealing customers from hard-working griffons.”

Cinnamon gasped. “I am not stealing anything!” she cried indignantly. “I’m just sellin’ food that some griffons want to buy.”

“Yeah, I know that,” the blue griffon replied. “I think she’s just mad because our booth is in a better spot than hers.”

The little pony snorted. “I’ve got as much right to be here as her! We paid for this booth! It ain’t my fault if she had to get one that wasn’t as good!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” said Gallus, holding up his hands placatingly. “Everygriff’s heard her rants against ponies, so no one’s paying her much attention. I’m just worried because she seems really angry, and I’ve seen what she’s like when she’s angry.”

“So have I,” replied Cinnamon grimly. “But I think we’ll be okay. She won’t bother us while Gulliand’s around.”

Sales at the stand continued to be brisk. The griffons liked Gulliand’s jambalaya as much as they had his dumplings and the pastries were selling very well. Gallus had to make many trips to wash the dishes and he always returned looking worried. Soon, Gulliand was scraping the bottom of the pot to fill the last bowl.

“Well, it looks as if I am finished for the day,” he said cheerfully. “I believe I may have sold more than I did last time.”

“Sixty-three bowls,” said Gallus with a smirk. “I oughta know. I washed ‘em.”

“Magnifique! I am going to take the pot back to the house. Are you done yet, Cherie?”

“Not yet,” replied Cinnamon Roll. “I still have some Sugar Nests I want to sell. You two go on and take the stuff to the house. I’ll be alright here.”

“Do you think that is a good idea, Cherie?” asked Gulliand. “Gallus said that the scone baker was in the area. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I think I’ll be okay. I don’t think she’d do anything in broad daylight in front of everybody.”

Gulliand doubted that, but he knew his fiancee was not backing down. “All right, Cherie. But, I am returning as soon as I drop off the pot!”

Cinnamon nodded then returned to her sales. A fat griffon with a parrot-like beak bought what was left of the bread. She still had three Sugar Nests and at least a dozen cinnamon muffins. She pushed the muffins closer to the front of the counter. I wish we could get some fresh berries, she thought. Then I could really make some good muffins. I could make some pies, too. I think I’ll write to Ma and ask her if she can ship us some apples. These griffons might get a kick out of my prize-winning Fiery Apple Pie!

“Hey, dweeb!”

Cinnamon froze at the sound of the familiar voice. Reluctantly, she looked up. Standing on the other side of the counter, menacingly silhouetted by the late morning sun, was Gilda the scone baker. Despite her rising fear, the little pony retained her customer service voice.

“May I help you?”

“May I hep ya?” Gilda mocked Cinnamon’s accent. “Yeah, you can ‘hep’ me. By clearing outta here so us hard working griffons can make a living!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, pony! I think I speak for every griffon here when I say we don’t want your kind here stealing customers and spreading your stupid pony ways!”

Cinnamon Roll glanced at the other vendors. None appeared to back up Gilda’s stance, but none of them came to the pony’s defense either.

“I am not stealin’ customers,” Cinnamon asserted. “I am here to help Gulliand start up a restaurant in Griffonstone.

“So I heard,” the griffoness scoffed. “What makes you think griffons would be interested in your pathetic little pony-styled restaurant?”

“I don’t know,” Cinnamon retorted tartly. “But our sales have been doing well,”

That hit a nerve. A dangerous fire flashed in the griffoness’ eyes. BANG! Gilda’s fists slammed into the counter, splintering the wood and catapulting the muffins onto the street. Only Cinnamon’s quick reflexes kept the cakes from meeting a similar fate. The irate griffoness pushed her face close to the stunned pony’s and growled menacingly.

“You listen to me, pony, I am trying to get enough bits to get outta this dump, and you and your stupid cakes…” She snatched up one of the Sugar Nests and thrust it under Cinnamon’s nose. “Are getting in my way! What in Tartarus is this supposed to be, a nest? This is what I think of you ponies and your cutesy crap!” She threw down the cake so it broke apart on the cobblestones.

Cinnamon Roll looked down at the destroyed cake and ruined muffins, and her anger overcame her fear.

“You owe me for that cake!” she ground out. “The muffins, I can forgive, but I put too much time and effort into that cake for somecreature to just throw it down!”

“I’m not paying for anything!”

“YES, YOU ARE!”

Both creatures turned to see an enraged Gulliand standing tall, his feathers on end and his tail lashing furiously behind him. He stepped closer, slowly and deliberately like a cat walking up to a rival. He stopped directly in front of Gilda, who barely flinched as he towered over her menacingly.

“That cake cost one bit,” he growled low. “I ought to make you pay for those muffins as well, but seeing as Cinnamon Roll appears to have forgiven that debt, I will let it go. One bit! Pay it now!”

Gilda glared at him defiantly, making no move to comply. Gulliand leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “I don’t like using my connections, but if you do not pay for that cake right here and right now, I will have you banned from the market permanently. Have I made myself clear?”

Gilda’s defiant facade crumbled. “Fine!” She slapped a coin onto the counter then turned and stalked away. “But, I swear if I see one more of those stupid cakes, I’m gonna puke!”

“Are you all right, Cherie?” asked Gulliand, gathering the little filly to him. The other vendors regarded him curiously but did not say anything. “I should never have left you alone.”

“It’s all right, Sugarcube. I’m not hurt. Can’t say the same about the counter, though.”

“Better the counter than you, Cherie.” He regarded the damage grimly. “Sacre Bleu Cheese! She almost broke it in half! I should have had her pay for this as well, but I doubt she had the money.”

“Never mind,” said Cinnamon Roll. “Let’s just go home.”

“Eighty-one bits all told, not bad for our second attempt!” Gulliand said as he laid the table for supper. Gallus, who had been invited to join them that evening, agreed.

“It was pretty good. I didn’t say this before, but a lotta griffins are saying that a restaurant in Griffonstone is a crazy idea. Seeing how much they love your food, though, I think they’re starting to change their minds.”

“That’s good,” said Cinnamon Roll as she sprinkled cinnamon onto some iced biscuits she had made for dessert. “I’m surprised at how well the bread has sold. They seemed more interested in that than the muffins or sweets.”

“We don’t get bread like your’s in Griffonstone,” explained Gallus. “The baker makes some good bread, but they’re all plain loaves. He sometimes makes hot cross buns, but not often.”

“Hmm,” Cinnamon grinned before singing, “Hot cross buns! Hot cross buns! One-a-penny! Two-a-penny! Hot cross buns!”

“Not with our baker,” the blue griffon chuckled. “More like ‘One-a-bit! Two-a-bit!’ No one here sells anything for just a penny.”

“No one in Canterlot did either, but back in Ponyville Mr. and Mrs. Cake used to sell what they called teething cookies for a penny each. They were solid cookies that teething foals could gnaw on.”

“You know, that might not be a bad idea for here!” cried Gallus. “Chicks need a little something to bite down on, too! A cookie like that would really come in handy.”

Cinnamon Roll considered a moment. “You may be right. I’ll write the Cakes and see if they can give me the recipe! But now, let’s eat!”

For supper Gulliand had made fried chicken with gravy and savory buttered rice. Gallus could barely contain himself as Gulliand loaded his plate. He didn’t care so much about the rice, but the fried chicken and thick brown gravy made his mouth water. Cinnamon Roll took only rice, but it was a big helping that filled her plate. The little griffon dug in, his eyes rolling back in bliss.

“Mmm!” he moaned. “This is the best fried chicken I’ve ever had!” He glanced at the little pony. “I wish you could try this. You’d love it!”

Cinnamon blushed. “I…have tried it, actually.”

Gallus nearly dropped his fork. “What? I thought ponies couldn’t eat meat!”

“We can…a little bit…as long as there’s not a lot of fat on it. Gulliand fried a chicken for a class project and I was the only one brave enough to take a bite.”

“And?”

Cinnamon shrugged. “It was good. It had a tasty crust and a nice savory flavor.”

“Then she remembered it was chicken she was eating and had to make a dash to the bathroom,” Gulliand chuckled. “I appreciated her trying it, though.”

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!!

All three creatures froze at the sudden interruption. Gulliand rose from the table.

“Who could that be?” he muttered as he walked to the door. “We’ve never had a visitor this late.”

He opened the little peep hole and gazed out. Suddenly he gasped and quickly unlocked the door.

“What’s wrong?” asked Cinnamon Roll, leaping from her chair.

“It’s Gabby,” replied Gulliand grimly. “I think she’s hurt.”

The filly rushed to the door, catching the griffoness as she stumbled inside. Her bluish gray feathers were ruffled and stained with some kind of powdery white substance and there was a brown smear across her face. She hugged the little pony tightly as she sobbed into her shoulder.

“Sweet Celestia,” Cinnamon murmured. She held her friend, rocking her back and forth as though comforting a foal. “Are you okay, Sugarcube? Are you hurt?”

“My…my wrist,” Gabby managed to choke between sobs. “I…I…I think I broke it.”

“Oh, sweetheart! Come on in and have a seat and let me look at it.”

Gulliand turned to Gallus. “Do you know any doctors around here?”

“Yeah, I know a guy. Works cheap but he knows his stuff.”

“Good.” He pressed five bits into the little griffin’s talon. “Go get him and bring him here. We’ll take care of her till you get back.”

Giving a nod, Gallus shot out the door and disappeared into the street. Meanwhile, Cinnamon Roll lifted Gabby’s talon to examine her wrist.

“It’s definitely swollen,” she said. “Can you move it?”

Gabby slowly tilted her talons up, wincing as she did so.

Cinnamon shook her head. “I think you’re right about it bein’ broken. Best thing to do is not move it too much. Wish I had an ice pack to help with the swellin’.”

“S’okay,” Gabby murmured, tears sliding down her cheeks and dripping from her beak. Gulliand and Cinnamon shared a worried look. This was not the cheerful, vivacious griffon they had come to know. Something besides her wrist was hurting her.

Cinnamon took the griffoness’ good hand in her hoof and gave it a little squeeze. “What is it, Sugarcube?” she asked kindly. “What happened to you?”

“My…my,” Gabby managed to stammer through her sobs. “My roommate…she…she…kicked me out!”

“Oh, no!” cried Cinnamon Roll, comfortingly brushing the griffoness’ feathers with her hoof. “I’m so sorry, Sugarcube!”

“Your roommate,” said Gulliand suddenly. He knelt next to Gabby and lifted her chin so she looked him in the eyes. “Did your roommate do this to you? Did she break your wrist?”

“No!” Gabby shook her head. “She…she shoved me out the door but I lost my balance and tried to catch myself and landed wrong.”

“Do you know why she–”

“I’m back!” Gallus burst through the door followed by a lean, reddish-brown griffon with the softest blue eyes Cinnamon had ever seen. He looked from Gulliand to Cinnamon Roll before looking at Gabby hunched over in her chair.

“I take it this is the patient,” he said in a deep, melodious voice.

He bent down and took the griffoness’ hurt arm into his hand. Gabby winced and gritted her beak, but other than that, she made no sound except to answer the doctor’s questions.

“Well,” he said after a moment. “It appears you have cracked one of the carpal bones in your hand. I will put a splint on it and I recommend you keep it on for a few weeks until it heals.” He chuckled dryly. “You’re lucky it wasn’t your other hand, or else you wouldn’t be able to sort the mail.”

Gabby only nodded in response. The doctor regarded her worriedly as he applied the splint and wrappings. When he finished, he asked Gabby to look up so he could examine her head and neck. He pulled out a small flashlight and shined it into her eyes.

“No sign of trauma or concussion,” he murmured as he stood up. “I’ll give you a little something for pain, then I recommend you rest and get a good night's sleep.”

The little griffoness did not respond but only seemed to curl herself up even tighter. The doctor patted her shoulder then stepped over to where Gulliand, Cinnamon, and Gallus were waiting.

“A word, please,” he murmured.

Gulliand led them into the large, unfinished room. The place was dusty and dim. Only the last red rays of the setting sun filtering through the windows kept it from being utterly dark. None of this mattered to the doctor who addressed them immediately.

“What in Tartarus happened?” he demanded.

“What?”

“You know what I mean!” the doctor hissed. “What happened to Gabby? How did she get hurt?”

“She told us that her roommate threw her out,” replied Cinnamon Roll. “She shoved her out the door and she fell on her hand.”

The doctor snorted. “I’m not surprised. Her roommate is a very volatile griffon. She lets her anger get the best of her. Though, this is the first time I’ve heard of her targeting Gabby.”

“We’ll try to get to the bottom of it,” promised Gulliand. “Meanwhile, she can stay with us until we figure out a way to help her.”

“Very good.” The doctor nodded. Gulliand offered him another five bits, but he politely declined, claiming the original five Gallus had given him were more than enough before departing.

“Told you he was cheap,” said Gallus, grinning. “He’s really dedicated to doctoring.”

Meanwhile, Cinnamon Roll joined Gabby, holding her good talon as the little griffoness’ sobs slowly abated. “It’s okay, Sugarcube,” she murmured comfortingly. “You can stay with us as long as you need. You’ll have to share a nest with me, if that’s okay.”

Gabby nodded. “That’s fine. I’ve had to share nests before.”

“Are you hungry?” asked Gulliand as he and Gallus resumed their places at the table. “I have a little more chicken and rice if you like.”

“Yes, please.”

Gulliand fixed her plate and the griffoness tucked in. The rest of the meal was a quiet affair without Gabby’s usual banter and unbridled enthusiasm. Once the meal was done and the dishes taken care of, Cinnamon Roll escorted their guest to the bathroom for a much needed scrub. The dejected griffoness made no protest as the filly shampooed her feathers and scrubbed off the brown smears with a washcloth.

“Thank Celestia, this stuff washed off pretty easy,” said Cinnamon, wringing out the cloth. “I thought it might be mud or…worse.”

“It’s icing.”

Cinnamon’s eyes went wide. “Icing?” She turned off the water and threw a towel over Gabby. “How did you get icing on your face?”

The griffoness pulled the towel over her head until only her beak stuck out. “Do…do you remember that Sugar Nest you gave me? When you stopped by the post office the other day?”

Cinnamon nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

“Well, I thought it was too pretty to eat, so I brought it home. I ate one of the eggs. It was really good, by the way.”

“Okay,” said Cinnamon. “Then what happened?”

“Well, I decided to share it with my roommates. They’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. Grandpa Gruff has been sick so they’ve been taking turns looking after him. So I thought the cake would cheer them up.”

Gabby paused and hunched her body under the towel. “I laid it on the table. Just then my roommate came in and when she saw the cake…” Gabby shivered. “She…she started screaming at me! She…she called me a traitor and a pony-lover! Then she said ‘This is what I think of your stupid cake!’ and she smashed it into my face! Then, she grabbed me and threw me out the door and yelled at me to not come back again!”

Cinnamon Roll stared at the griffoness. Traitor? Pony-Lover? Her eyes slowly widened as the truth dawned on her.

“Gabby? Who is your roommate?”

“I…I have two. One is Greta. She’s tending to Grandpa Gruff right now.”

“And the other one?”

“The other one is Gilda.”