Work Text:
A week has passed since Pure Vanilla left the Black Citadel and vanished on the horizon. With the vanilla monarch’s absence, Cacao’s lifestyle also returned to what it was previously… down-low and silent.
Except this time, he felt peaceful.
It was just such a shame that as the days went by, and Cacao anticipated the arrival of the prince more and more strongly, he didn’t have his friend to accompany him anymore.
The royal physician, and his midwife, who was with him through the past eight months was a Cookie like any other. Cacao respected her, but would surely forget her name soon enough. It wasn’t the same as Pure Vanilla.
Any day now… any day now.
Sometimes the king would lie in bed at night with his eyes closed, but unable to rest. Instead of slowing down, his heart would speed up and beat against the mattress, while he tried to manipulate his own thoughts to stop worrying needlessly.
Any prickling sensation caused him trifold the amount of worry as before. There were two or three times where Cacao approached one of his guards with a stone cold expression and said, “I think my water might have broken. I think I’m in labor. Accompany me to the infirmary, please.” —Only to get to the infirmary and find out that he is… not in labor.
“The humiliation I feel is immeasurable.”
Cacao said grimly, ramming his forehead into a wall, as one of his most trusted Watchers tried to de-escalate him.
“It’s alright, Your Majesty.” The Second Watcher hesitated to put a reassuring hand on the king’s shoulder, it only hovered above Cacao, “L-Let’s think of these false alarms as drills. We are training ourselves to know exactly how to act when it happens for real.”
“Your optimism is greatly valued.” Cacao said weakly.
Another day passed.
It was a peaceful day. The winds thumped against the black bricks of the Black Citadel with less force than usual… and it allowed the reclusive king to tilt open a window, and gaze onwards into his kingdom.
Cold wind… nothing clears the mind so well.
He felt small, small movement within himself. Squirming, or maybe hiccuping. Instinctively he placed his hands below and atop of the gravid bump… and he felt calm with it.
“…If only I had become used to you about two weeks ago.”
His voice was warm, and he spoke to none other than the little thing in his grasp.
“…It’s a bit bittersweet, isn’t it. I spent such a long time trying to detach myself from this situation. Because I… I knew that if I allowed myself to feel attached, I'd be devastated for you to leave.”
The movement seemed to settle down when they heard their father’s radiant voice.
“I deal badly with change, you see. Maybe that is the first thing you’ll learn about your father… He is stubborn, and scared of feeling love.”
He stroked it caringly, even if his face and voice had a somber tone to it.
“…He hopes that you’ll have a… healthy arrival… and an adequate, happy shot at life.”
A surge of stronger wind brushed by him, prompting him to squint his eyes.
“…And now, it’s time I get back to work. You’re coming with me.”
Cacao closed the window, screwed the handle shut, and puffed up the fur mantle atop his shoulders before slowly heading out.
With his hand on the railing, the king descended several staircases. Slowly and carefully… until he reached the bottom of the first flight of stairs. Several more to go.
A dull ache began to form in his lower back, but that was nothing new. Cacao gritted his teeth through it as he continued walking. He already felt shots of pain within the last days, and today too. He would not fall into panic and assume it’s labor, until the pain becomes strong enough for him to scream—
His breathing got tenser as he walked, turning around a corner. There was one more short flight of stairs ahead of him.
—And that is surely hard to achieve, after all, a warrior as strong as him… He was not afraid of pain—
Good lord, maybe he’s walking too quickly. Take it easy, dad. You’re not trying to run away from anything. With heavy breathing, Cacao slowed down until he was standing.
—This is taking longer than before. Contractions aren’t meant to take this long. But this can’t be the pain of giving birth yet. He’s not faltering. Or buckling under himself. Only standing in place, massaging his lower back, and breathing.
Is it easing? It seems to be easing. He almost got worried for a second there. Okay… Cacao proceeded to take a step forward,
and then felt fluid rushing down his leg.
Wet, wet, and warm.
His heart sank.
Within seconds, it pooled around his foot.
And he stared at it, wide-eyed, probably pale in the face.
He forced himself out of the stunned shock, head whipping up to see if there’s anyone around. It was dead silent.
A warrior nation, a palace with guards everywhere, but there’s nobody around when he needs them to be…!
Somehow he didn’t feel much pain anymore, and he figured that it must be because of the adrenaline that shot through his veins. Cacao gathered himself and continued walking, all while leaving behind a wet trail.
A million thoughts rushed through his head, but he needed to pray to Fortuna almighty that he won’t be left alone in this. In his quiet distress, he began to feel another wave of pain coming.
Just when he turned around the corner, he saw him—and he was never more relieved to see one of his guards in front of him. The spear-wielding Cookie was just going to nod and pay silent respects to the king, but— “I’m in labor.” Cacao uttered curtly, “Please accompany me to the infirmary.”
The gatekeeper’s eyes widened, and then filled with doubt, “Yes, right away, but is His Majesty absolutely sure that it’s not false labor again?”
“It’s not, but even if it were, you’d take me to the nurse.”
“Y-Yes, of course. Deepest apologies for—”
“Go!”
The infirmary was inconveniently on another end of the Citadel. Cacao cursed his own lack of foresight. He knew labor would happen any day now, and still he thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a stroll to a darned watchtower somewhere far away.
The gatekeeper halted, commanding another high-ranking warrior on their afternoon break; “Take a post at the southeastern tower right this instant!”
Cacao did a fairly good job at being quiet and marching onward with only a slightly inconvenienced expression.
The faces of Cookies blurred past him. At some point he became aware that there were more Cookies walking not past him, but with him.
“Shall we proceed with Plan A, Your Majesty?”
“Yes.” he hissed.
“The royal advisor will substitute you until further notice. But we doubt that any crucial decisions will suddenly have to be made.”
“Let’s focus on the arrival of the heir right now.”
“Yes, how are you feeling, my lord? Where does it hurt, when did it start?” Various voices flew past him.
Appearing calm and collected, he became adjusted to the infirmary.
And so, the tedious labor process began.
It came in waves of pain, the time of active labor was only a minority of it.
And while at it, he insisted on giving birth not in a lying position, but in a crouch.
But the worst thing about it, the most terrible of all things in these harrowing eighteen hours, was the fact that Dark Cacao’s body tore, ripped, and bled endlessly.
It’s possible that the only thing that kept him alive was the power of immortality granted by his Soul Jam.
It was about as painful as he expected it to be, with just a cup more pain to it; in spite of the anaesthetics given. He held his throat shut so severely—to avoid screaming like a banshee—that he ended up scratching it too.
He did scream, of course. It would be impossible not to. And the nurses that witnessed that sound would probably need a long time to forget it. Nobody expected a man with such a baritone to be able to reach that octave.
But these are all the brutal sacrifices needed to create the offspring of a god.
The pain would surely be proportional to the amount of happiness that would come afterwards…
This is the looping thought that kept the warrior sane.
———
He was at the brink of consciousness when he heard triumphant voices, muffled, as if his ears were stuffed with cotton. A pure mess, coated in sweat, and hair tangled into knots. He thought he heard the word ‘boy’ at some point. He tasted sweetish iron on his upper lip…
Before he could think about it, somebody went ahead and swiped a sanitized towel over his nose and mouth.
“W-What, me?! ”
He heard the familiar voice of a certain Watcher within the room. Cacao’s vision was blurry, but he saw…
Something small, wrapped in a towel, and handed to the Second Watcher. The high-pitched screeching of a baby pierced throughout the room.
It’s over… is it over?
Cacao thought he said that out loud, but in reality all that came out was a moan. It was enough to get the attention of another nurse though.
“He’s sedated to the max, is it safe to give it to Him?”
Good lord, he has never felt so powerless and weak. He was in a state of half-paralysis, but his mind was awake, and he wanted to yell at everyone in the room to place the child in his arms already.
“He might drop it…”
“Maybe we went overboard with the morphine?”
“But any dosage smaller than that would’ve had no effect on Him…”
The Second Watcher shoved a medic out of his way and came closer to Dark Cacao’s bed. He pressed the baby to Cacao’s chest, and guided the king’s arms to wrap around it.
He was regaining his senses. Alert, Cacao mustered up the strength to stay firmly put in that position. He held the baby. Completely unaware that he was shivering. Blurred vision could finally focus on the precious gift in his arms… A dim glow began to emit from the limp king.
The nurses watched in marvel. The baby quickly stopped crying, it calmed down, stopped writhing, and gawked in awe with his crimson eyes at the violet light.
“Is that the Soul Jam’s power shining through…!?” The Second Watcher commented, his voice tense.
“It’s so magical… His Highest is regaining his vitality from mother-to-baby skin contact…”
Another nurse added sweetly, “How honored I am to witness this historical event…”
Heavy breathing from Cacao began to slow and ease.
His lip curved into a relieved, tired smile.
But… the procedure was far from over.
As the medics prepared for a surgery, the new father crooned softly to the baby boy. It was in a language that nobody understood.
The nurses began to inspect his organs, yet at that point he was so numb and tired of the pain, that receiving sixteen stitches on his vagina was just a crumb.
Despite the initial paralysis and being zoinked out of his gourd, Dark Cacao was quite awake and conscious within that same hour.
“Both of yours’ blood pressures are on point.” A pale-faced nurse said, “Everything is going perfectly. This might have been one of the cleanest births our team ever delivered.”
“Is that so.” he said tiredly, which unintentionally sounded like he was doubting them. The baby was still snuggled to his skin, but began to squirm around in his grasp.
Around forty minutes after delivery came a very important question.
“Dark Cacao Cookie, this seems like a good time to perform the first breastfeeding, no?”
“Ah.” Cacao blinked, “Yes, I suppose so.” though he was uncertain, “Does he seem hungry? I don’t think so.”
The moment he asked that, the prince began to mutter and mumble.
“Don’t worry, we’ll guide you through it! It’s easy and painless.”
“Mhm.”
A midwife showed him how to position the prince, and how exactly he should grip the nipple to ensure a correct feeding. Cacao was quiet during this time. Quiet and concentrated on learning. He studied everything about this in books for the past eight months, but actually doing it was a whole different thing.
He bit his lip when the baby latched onto his nip.
“…Ahh.” he said meekly, “I-I forgot that newborns don’t have teeth.”
“Were you preparing to get your breast bitten off?” a nurse asked perplexed.
“It is a sacrifice I would be ready to make.”
The prince sucked, and sucked, and it seemed to go on endlessly.
“Nevermind, he was really hungry indeed.” muttered Cacao, his commentary riveting. “And really… really big.” he blinked slowly, “And really… clean…”
Someone next to him chuckled, “Quite big for a newborn, yes. But in your arms, your Majesty, he looks proportionally small.”
Cacao didn’t say it out loud, but he began to understand why his pregnancy was this heavy, and why this labor was this painful. This child resembled a one month old, not a newborn.
“Oh, but that reminds me…” his midwife spoke up with an elated voice, “What is the prince’s name?”
Cacao fell silent for a moment, knitting his brows in thought. “Well… The name should be faithful to a Cookie’s flavor, shouldn’t it…” he gazed down at the little boy, voice getting darker, “I have no reason to believe that there is any ingredient other than cacao in his dough…”
“We could scrape one molecule of powder off him and test what the percentages of ingredients of his dough are—”
“No!!!” Cacao’s eyes fired up, “Are you out of your mind?! That’s not a suitable screening method for a Cookie with no immune system!”
“If it put him at risk, the medical field wouldn’t recommend it…”
“No, no… I’d wait at least three months before doing that… But… The heir to the Dark Cacao Kingdom cannot be just living without a name for the first months of his life…”
“If I may, Your Majesty,” another nurse joined the conversation, “Judging by how much milk the little boy is drinking, he’s probably already more of a chocolate cookie than a purebred cacao…”
“…Hmm. Are you suggesting… Choco Cookie?”
“But that doesn’t fully sound like the name of a noble…” the nurse pondered with a finger to her chin, “Cacaonian nobles have some variant of ‘Dark’ in their name, don’t they?”
“Not all, but majority.” Cacao explained calmly, “…Yes…Yes… So in that case… Dark Choco Cookie.”
“Dark Choco Cookie? Prince Dark Choco?”
Cacao nodded, “Yes. It’s an elegant name, isn’t it?”
“It certainly has a handsome ring to it!”
The Second Watcher added, “It’s not too theatrical, but not plain either. Yeah, there’s hardly a more befitting name for a future king of this nation.”
“Is that the name that shall be registered on his documents?”
“Yes, yes.” Cacao confirmed, unable to suppress his honest smile, “It’s perfect.”
More things happened in the following two days than there would be space to write it down. Especially since the vast majority of it was paperwork, boring paperwork, and then resting time for the young parent.
What should be worth noting though, is that Dark Cacao had made no predictions as to what state he would be in after delivery—yet nonetheless, he found himself more crushed than ever before.
After painkillers and dopamine wore off, he felt pinned. Bedridden, with a sewn up gash between his legs, he was unable to sit up. He had busted blood vessels in the eyes, and blood continued leaking from whence the prince came. He felt, he felt very…
…broken.
…When he was left alone, everything around him was quiet, and he appreciated it more than noise, but it also brought a deep darkness into his head.
He held the little boy in his arm, and stared endlessly into his red eyes. Not one thought behind them. The baby balled his fists, then opened them. He tugged and pinched the bare dark skin on Cacao’s chest. Only alive for about two days, and already so curious.
Dark Cacao stared at the baby endlessly, without blinking, with a far-off look in his eyes.
And when Dark Choco began crying, Cacao tested to see if he was hungry, or just needed to be snuggled and bounced around a little. When the time came, a maid would clean and take care of his first bowel movements. He watched it happen next to him in silence.
On loop, every day, and every night.
He was only ripped out of his trance when a kindly servant approached him with a tray in their hands.
“You should eat, my king.”
The words echoed inside his head, and he was late to respond.
“…Yes, I should, shouldn’t I.”
His dry throat, not having said a word for 24 hours, caused him a series of coughs.
“Is His Majesty feeling alright?”
“Yes, yes…”
He was left to his own devices again. The thoughts returned to the foreground like a rising ocean. Cacao felt crushed, and stuck in one place. Stranded. What other ways are there to describe a visceral loneliness?
He knew of mothers that would give birth and be fully awake and walking around two hours later, yet he was pummeled and beaten up. What does that say about him?
Maybe… Maybe this was a terrible mistake.
Maybe it’s hopeless.
Cookies are not meant to be made this way.
Cookies are either baked by the Godly Makers, or born with the power of a miracle and potions, only into loving and tight families. There should be… There should be more than just his father in this room. Just his father, who’s only been a father for three days, and is already ruminating about whether this was worth it. Shame ate him whole.
Dark Choco began whimpering again. Yet his father could not rip himself out of melancholy, and pay attention to him.
The baby cried, and he did nothing.
A Watcher makes his way through the Black Citadel. Quick and determined in his step, he splits this monochromatic bow into twin blades, and packs them into the shafts by his belt.
Serious and determined was this servant of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. As the Second Watcher of the Black Citadel, it’s rare for him to not be busy—yet nonetheless, the warrior master seemed to have found a free moment in his schedule, and was now marching towards the southwest on the ground floor.
Guards nodded in acknowledgment of his presence, and lifted their spears to free the way for him.
Except for the one, stationed right in front of the private infirmary ward.
“I have business with the king. Can you let me through?”
“His Majesty is currently resting. I’ll ask if He is available.”
“Fine.”
The guard knocked before slipping into the room. She reappeared once more, freeing the way for the Second Watcher.
“Thank you.”
A complicated fragrance hung in the quite sizely ward room. Sanitized, but chocolate-rich too.
Dark Cacao Cookie was laying down in a pure white bed, but pillows were stacked up behind his back to allow a more comfortable ‘almost sitting’ position.
The first thing he noticed was the hollowed out and pale appearance of the king’s face. The other didn’t even bother glancing at his visitor until said visitor fully approached his bed. To say that he looked bad would be an understatement. The warrior has seen Dark Cacao after battles, battered, bruised, sliced apart, and even with viral infections. In all of those memories, Cacao bore a strong spirit, beaming and radiating determination. Now, he looked about 70% dead.
A few seconds passed.
“Hey there.” The Second Watcher greeted him, not like how most people would greet the great king.
“Mmm.”
“…How are you holding up, my lord?”
“I’m fine.”
The great king’s voice rasped in an unusual way, his scratched up throat still not fully healed. The Second Watcher came up closer, prepping his arm against the bedside cabinet, and leaning into Cacao’s bloodshot vision.
“Don’t mess with me. You look about as dead as when you first delivered. I came here ‘cause I heard you requested the prince to be taken away from you.”
Dark Cacao let out a deep, irritated sigh. “Just who is responsible for this private information leaking out all over the vanguard…”
“Hey,” the other snapped his gloved fingers, “That’s what I would like to find out too, but above all, I’d like to know what’s the cause of this mess. What happened in this room.”
Cacao watched the other explain in a serious tone; “I might just know how to help you, man. I care about this monarchy, and I want it to be as durable and strong as the Wall around us.” He sounded genuinely concerned, but remained diplomatic.
“…You’re unusually assertive, my Watcher…” Cacao uttered acceptingly.
“N-No, Dark Cacao Cookie,” he huffed, “Let’s drop this act for a moment. I am not fully here on Watch duty. I am here as your brother in arms. I am here as… as a friend.”
“…Very well…” without emotion, he peered into the others eyes, “…Coffee Roll Cookie.”
The warrior closed his eyes and sighed as if thinking ‘now, that’s out of the way…’
“Can you tell me what happened here while I was gone?” Coffee Roll asked in a newly calmer manner, taking a seat on a stool beside the bed.
“…I asked for the prince to be taken care of in another room by a wet nurse, instead.”
“A-A wet nurse, huh? …Why though? I was here the first time you breastfeed, and you didn’t seem to have any problem.”
“I’ve… I’ve begun to feel very strange.” Cacao twiddled with the sleeves of his robe, eyes still absent-mindedly directed to the walls and cabinets. “I feel like I am drugged, o-or something. My mind’s just stuck, I’ve been feeling not fully in touch with reality. Noticing this, I thought it’d be better for the child to be under someone else’s care.” he cleared his throat, cringing, “At least- for the time being…”
“Hmmm.” the Watcher scratched his faint mustache in thought, “I thought new moms are usually overprotective of their children and can’t stand the idea of being in separate rooms… Are you really… happy with this?”
“Happy?” Cacao asked dryly, “No. I feel like scum in grey, poisonous, polluted water.” he wagered between misery and anger, “All was fine for the first day or two, but then I began to feel sick, and worthless . ”
Coffee Roll listened attentively—nodding, and furrowing his brows just as much as the other guy.
“Naively I hoped that at this point, I would at least be able to rule from the comfort of a throne, but instead I am bedbound, and I don’t know for how long.
So I have already lost my purpose as a warrior, a hero, and a king… and I can’t be of any use as a mother and father… either …”
The watcher widened his eyes in shock, as tears welled up in the king’s eyes. He began crying without build-up, and covered his face in shame.
“Hey, hey hey,” The Watcher’s hand came up to firmly hold the other man’s shaking shoulder.
He wasn’t sure if he ever saw his colleague crack down into tears before. Though they were closer than most servants were in the Black Citadel, he was still under the impression that Dark Cacao was akin to a god. Mentally and emotionally above all of this pedestrian junk like ‘low self esteem’—Hearing this man’s voice crack, still trying to suppress his weeping, it really proved to the Second Watcher that his king is a human being.
“It’s alright, man. Let it out.” he squeezed Cacao’s shoulder supportively.
“And listen, I know,” Cacao choked out in between his hiccups, “I’ve read about baby blues and postpartum depression, I had a feeling that this would happen, but even so I… I don’t know how to banish this feeling… I’ve cried more in the last two weeks than in the past several years…!”
“Yeah, I see what you mean.” however awkward he was at it, the watcher wanted to cheer him up, “But I think it’s for the better that you’re talking about it right now, instead of shutting it in and letting it fester.”
“I’ve had these morbid thoughts in my head, while I cradled the prince in my arms,” Cacao held himself and shivered, “I thought about death, I saw fantasies of my son dying, and me who did it. I fantasized about killing him and then myself. How could such a thing invade my brain, what is wrong with me, am I a danger, am I a danger to my son…!?”
Despair rocked the sickly king. Confessing to these thoughts filled him with a deep fear. He felt the cold glare of all holy guardians and all of his kingdom piercing into him. Even the four heroes glared at him in judgment. He was a failure.
“Do you understand now, why I wanted them to take him away from me? My worst fear is hurting someone I love…” his voice turning quiet, “So I need to be apart from them…”
He concluded it at that. A minute of silence was in order, as the emotions washed over them both, and allowed Dark Cacao to cool down from his fit of crying. He feared what his companion would say to him, if he would even dare saying anything at all.
At last the watcher did ask, low and careful in his tone.
“…Did you think about doing those things, or were they just morbid thoughts beyond your control?”
“They were thoughts… that didn’t feel like my own… they weren’t my ideas… I would never lay a hand on anyone.”
“…In that case…” Coffee Roll shrugged, “They were just the intrusive thoughts of a very stressed new parent. You’re in control of what you do and how you act. Maybe meditation or prayer could inspire reassurance in your heart.”
“…Yes…” Cacao sniffled, “Yes, you’re right.”
“You should talk about this to the nurses taking care of you. They might have better ideas. But,” the watcher flashed a smile at the other, “You can do this. You’re strong, not just physically, but with your spirit too. You’re our great king, Dark Cacao Cookie. Just give yourself time.”
“I’ve simply felt like I’ve already taken too much time. The kingdom needs me. The people want to see their symbol, not just a government…”
“Well shit.” The warrior slapped his thigh, “I can tell you what the kingdom looks like right now.”
Cacao glanced up at him.
“The general mood is the same as ever. That speech you provided to the newspaper definitely eased many Cookies’ minds. It doesn’t matter if you’ll be bed bound for a week or a month, or several years, truly honorable warriors will be faithful to their king through thick and thin.”
The bed bound king did a slow nod, “Thank you.” wiping a tear off his eye with his finger, “Thank you for taking the time to come here…”
“I told you, man, I care about you. On a closer level than because I work for you.” he stood up, extending his second hand to Cacao, “Would you like a hug, soldier?”
“…”
Though it brought mild discomfort at first, Cacao did wrap his arms around the other man’s chest. They shared this manly hug for a good minute.
“Ow,” Cacao finally pulled away, holding his chest, “My pecs.”
Roll lifted his chin to gesture while he asked, “Shouldn’t you be draining them, or something, if you’re not breastfeeding?”
“Y-Yes, I should. Do that, or opt for feeding the prince instead.” he bit his lip, “It’s really awkward, though…”
“Awkward?”
“It’s not quite something I’d consider dysphoria, but all my life I’ve been extremely apathetic and indifferent to my chest. The only time it becomes relevant is when I have my measurements taken, when I commission clothes to be made, but suddenly… They are an important part of my body… It’s unbelievable…”
The watcher stared, not really able to understand or comment on the topic.
“Ah, but alas, it does not matter.” Cacao swatted with his hand, “How about this… I could switch it around. A bit of breastfeeding and a bit of formula. Yes, that sounds splendid! Coffee Roll, could you find my midwife and tell her to bring my son here again?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I feel lighter after our conversation. I felt estranged and distant earlier, but now I want to see him again…”
The second watcher listened to Cacao’s elevated voice as he approached the door.
“It’s normal to feel all kinds of rapid emotions after labor. But it’ll start easing after a few weeks, I reckon.”
“You know quite a lot about pregnancy, for a man with a penis.”
“!!” He flipped around, “My king…!”
“What? It’s an astute observation. You’re wise and empathetic. Those are crucial traits for a good warrior.”
Coffee Roll accepted the compliment with some delay, bowing down in thanks, “Why, thank you for your kind words, my king.”
“Go on, go on.” Cacao flicked his wrist to send the other off, but the order lacked its usual grim seriousness.
When the Second Watcher left the room, Cacao could only quietly anticipate seeing the child which he hadn't seen for over a day. He shifted around under his blanket, having gone sore from the same position—but that kind of movement shot a bolt of pain through his lower stomach, and his stitches. Hissing in pain, he proceeded to repeat it more slowly and carefully.
He would not have this pain for the rest of his life, would he? The words sprung up inside his head, and he shushed himself in his thoughts. He really needs to work on undoing the pathological anxiety that pregnancy caused him.
Steps, right… slow steps… As his brother in arms said…
Dark Cacao’s eyes lit up when a woman came into the room, with his sleeping son cradled in her arms.