Chapter Text
Pure Vanilla was mentally exhausted. Clotted wanted to take their soul jams away to a distant land―although for a good cause―and had sullied Lily’s name to attempt to convince his friends, insulting them to their faces and had expected Cacao to not take offense. If Holly had not been brave enough to stand in his way… Vanilla shuddered to think of the consequences. Such an event would have been a true travesty indeed, and then how would he have told his friends the truth after that?! He was glad that Holly had intervened, and relieved that his friends had been willing to listen to his explanation, but he was still oh so tired. Something about all of this felt off.
He sighed, looking at his surroundings. The ancient Vanillian had decided a walk was the only solution and lost in his thoughts he had found himself in the Wafflebot hanger, Crepe’s precious domain.
His heart clenched at the thought of the child. Poor Crepe had been left here alone, and it was his fault. If only he could have been there when they woke up, they wouldn’t be so hurt. He was working on helping them with Raisin’s help, but it was slow-going, especially since Crepe no longer remembered him. They had found that their memory had been damaged as the cryopod deteriorated. It was a miracle they had survived at all. He was trying to get them to warm up to him again, but it was slow going.
Steeling himself, he walked into the hanger and spotted the child working on their machines. Vanilla watched silently for a few moments before Crepe noticed his presence.
“UGH! Why so many visitors these days?! You just won’t stop coming, will you?” they snapped, rolling their eyes.
Vanilla chuckled. Crepe never changed. “Greetings!” he laughed, smiling at them.
“I don’t even remember when I saw so many different cookies last time! Annoying!” they huffed, glaring at Vanilla.
Vanilla hummed. “Perhaps… All these cookies care about you too much to leave you alone?” he offered softly, carefully watching their reaction.
They blinked. “What’s that now?!” they asked, confused.
“I cannot tell what happened when you awakened in this kingdom…” Vanilla admitted, “but I know for certain that before GingerBrave and his companions appeared, you must have been all alone. And I’m sorry, for this realization came to me too late.” The ancient cookie tried not to let his true grief and sorrow leak through. If only he had told one of his friends where Crepe had been before they had gone off to battle… Cacao would have readily searched for him if he thought they were alive, he knew the royal would have, but he hadn’t known. He hadn’t know their little ward was still alive, waiting for them because there wasn’t time to get them to the boats, not with Dark Enchantress standing on their doorstep.
“Well… it was boring,” they agreed softly, but Vanilla could see their mask crumbling before him. They were very, very lonely, but so much isolation left them overstimulated by others, he could tell.
“It was all my fault,” Vanilla said quietly, before returning to his normal mask tone and continuing; “But I thank you for staying in the Vanilla Kingdom to the very end. And you’ve helped so much rebuilding it! I’m eternally grateful to you, Strawberry Crepe Cookie.”
“H-huh? What’s this all about?” they asked, surprised with wide eyes. “I didn’t do it for your praise or anyone else’s! I only do what I want!” They paused, looking away, but Vanilla recognized the blush on their cheeks. “But… I liked what you said! You may come again sometimes!” they offered, smiling softly.
Vanilla laughed. “Of course! Our world could use more thank yous.”
Crepe shuddered, looking away. “Hmmm… My dough feels itchy…” They looked up at him. “Hey, you said you were grateful?! Then do me a favor, will ya? You see, I was reassembling my robots and I ran out of parts! Can you bring me some more? Thanks!”
“Absolutely,” Vanilla agreed. “Would you like me to soothe your dough? I am a healer, after all.”
Crepe waved him off. “I’m fine. I’ll analyze my dough later.”
Vanilla nodded. “Your ability to analyze dough is phenomenal, Crepe. I hope you know that.”
“Oh! Uh… Thank you. I even did an analysis of your guest,” Crepe said, sounding proud of it.
Vanilla raised an eyebrow. “You did? Do you mean Clotted Cream?”
They nodded. “Yep! He was really interesting…”
“I would love to hear about your findings, little one,” Vanilla said kindly. “Perhaps it could help me with my decision…”
“What decision?” Crepe asked curiously.
“He has asked for my soul jam. He wants to study it and see how it could be used to empower our peoples to victory, but… well, they are soul jams. They are very powerful and I understand Cacao’s concerns about it falling into dishonest hands. He has had to fight off many a thief intending to corrupt and steal his power; it is only natural he would be hesitant to release it.”
Crepe grimaced. “I’m not sure you should. His dough is… interesting, and he asked weird questions yesterday.”
“Elaborate?” Vanilla requested, trying to figure out what the little genius might have found.
“He’s made of 25% grace, 23% eloquence, 20% brilliance, 20% ambition, 10% condensed cream, and 2% connivingness,” Crepe said in a conspiratorial tone, like they were sharing a compelling secret. “And that isn’t even the most fascinating part! He told me he was of House Custard, but there’s no custard in his dough! Weird, right? And he wanted to know if I’d ever analyzed you or your friends.”
“I let you,” Vanilla remembered. “It nearly broke your equipment. I felt horrible for days.”
“Yeah, and I told him that and he started muttering about pure power or some nonsense. I was busy defending my honor from that horrible coffee cookie that was insulting my waffle bots!” Crepe pouted.
“I am sorry he insulted your bots, Crepe,” Vanilla said absentmindedly as his mind raced, his feathers shuddering beneath his cloak. “Thank you for telling me all of this, little one. You have left me with a lot to think about.”
“I was just confused how he could be a custard cookie with no custard in his dough! Custard Cookie III, the little king―I mean, annoyance was made with lots of custard so why does Clotted Cream not have any in him?” Crepe mused.
“Why not indeed…” Vanilla whispered, his feet carrying him out of the hanger and away from his rambling ward as dread grounded the normally smiling phoenix to the ground. Dread… and fear.
Returning to his room, he questioned his next move. He needed proof, and while he knew Cacao would merely need Crepe’s word to convict the impostor, the others would be harder to convince. But who would know if Clotted was actually Custard descent―
Of course. It was so simple. Why did he not think of it before?
Vanilla got out his writing utensils and paper and began penning an invitation. Perhaps he hadn’t been able to come before, but it never hurt to ask again or to simply ask for written confirmation of his worries, but he felt that his grandnephew would want to be there for the council. He hadn’t been able to see all of his relatives in one place before after all.
After finishing the letter, he sealed it and gave it to the fastest raven. If he knew the little royal at all, Custard Cookie III would be here within the day.
All he had to do was wait, and he would have his answers.