Chapter Text
“Now, Sugarfly Cookie, what would make you truly happy?”
Eternal Sugar blissful tone rang out, as Pavlova Cookie watched from the sidelines. His attention on the cookie questioned, Sugarfly, more than his Master.
The near silver plated cookie stood nervously. Knees touching as she thought.
Her stance was always so nervous. Guilty to be here. Why? What does she have to worry about anymore?
Pavlova had originally been wary of her. This was clearly a cookie from the Faeriewood! The kingdom made to keep Beasts like Eternel Sugar prison! What if Sugarfly came into their peaceful garden to gather intelligence! Take it down from the inside! Or lay down grounds for war and drag Eternal Sugar Cookie away from them!
Eternal Sugar Cookie was lucky to have not been sealed away like her brethren. Maybe their creators thought she was fine, hidden in her own space, only those who entered her domain to be doomed. Like an ant lion, she didn’t go out and hunt, she didn’t leave her pit, and she was only dangerous if you fell in.
Sugarfly was stupid enough to let herself fall in.
But that didn’t mean she still wasn’t with the enemy!
Eternal Sugar Cookie was too kind for her own good, Pavlova thought.
That’s what Pavlova had thought anyway.
He had been given the task to treat Sugarfly, make her feel welcomed and comfortable. Fine, he hates playing servant but at least he can keep an eye on her.
He watched her more than he assisted her.
But sometimes they talk and he eggs her on about where she comes from, and Sugarfly’s bad at lying.
Until Sugarfly finally speaks of her home.
And she confirms she’s from the Faerie Kingdom.
No duh.
“My icing used to be a more beautiful gold!” He remembers her exclaiming happily. “Or a modest yellow.” She trailed off shamefully.
Pavlova can see the hints of color in her hair, but it’s true it’s not very prominent. How ugly. “Used to?”
She continues, ”the faeries are guardians of the Silver Tree. It is our duty to keep it and the king safe.”
Pavlova lets her continue, if anything, to gather intelligence on just how much the Faeries know about his Master.
“There comes a time when we take on…” she holds, only for a second, but it’s a second Pavlova notices. “...a great honor. We take on a blessing of silver, a drink of sap straight from the tree.”
Sugarfly turned away from Pavlova. Not wanting to be faced.
“Over time it makes us stronger ” a pause, “but we slowly lose our original flavor, our scent” Sugarfly’s voice shakes, as she views her own hands. Grey, pale, near white. “Our original color. Even the very shape of our dough.”
Pavlova remembers turning pale. A familiar foreboding bled down his neck.
“We all become Mercury Knights, our strongest to protect the tree. But we lose our uniqueness, our very being.”
Sugarfly tears up, Pavlova pretends to not notice. Sadness is foreign to him. Comforting just as much.
“It’s an honor really, I should have been thankful I was among the strongest of knights to be chosen! I was!” She exclaims, defending herself.
“But maybe I wasn’t as strong as I thought. Maybe I wasn’t ready. Because the thought of losing my golden hair, my sugary taste…”
Pavlova thinks, is this how she found her way here? He shook the thoughts of sympathy. This just confirmed she’s a strong ally to their enemy. Is this just a part of her knight’s duty?
That annoying bleed chills his shoulder. Or did she run away here to escape? Something about that festers in him.
“How did you find this place?”
Sugarfly smiles like a child caught doing something bad. He’s familiar with the feeling.
“Your master’s brethren…”
Here we go.
“They are sealed in that Silver Tree… but we knew not all of them were there. I’m sure Elder Faerie knew where Eternal Sugar Cookie hood. But many of us only knew of it as a myth.”
Pavlova continues to listen, trying to still tell himself it’s just to gather information.
“That she still lies in wait, not too far, hidden. That she had the most beautiful garden of temptation. With sugary sweet air, and peaceful waters, colorful delights. Where you will never go hungry, never face fear, be free from what’s expected of you.”
Pavlova can read that the last one is based on experience.
“I flew away from my kingdom. Walking into Beast Yeast, originally with no course, originally just to get some air, to live the life I had left before I became a dutiful, loyal knight.”
At least that’s what she told herself, to Pavlova. But Pavlova knows a wary heart when he sees one.
She spoke of the Faerie Kingdom as if it were a burden.
And so Sugarfly found freedom.
She found it, here. In his Master’s garden. Where everyone is welcome, where everyone is free to live happy, and free, and unburdened by the lives they left behind.
This was a good thing, this was a wonderful thing. This is what his Master’s goals were. For every cookie to find happiness. He’s spent time eternal here, and somehow Sugarfly’s happiness rekindled the cause in his heart. Reminded him of how wonderful this garden was.
That nobody should ever leave.
Not even him. Especially not him. Not when witnessing a case like Sugarfly made his heart sing.
So he often watched Sugarfly enjoy herself. The way she flew with so much joy. Freedom. No longer shackled. It was infectious.
One beautiful sunny day, she helped Pavlova collect berries off a tree. Soaring to the branches up high.
Her flying was graceful, enchanting. Her transparent wings caught the sunlight, and hugged it. Making it glissen and giggle. A beautiful partnership.
It never occurred to Pavlova before now that love could blossom between the rays of sunlight and faerie’s wings.
Pavlova dared to think it rivaled his Master’s own pretty plumage. His own too. They were the same after all. Feather-like frosting, angelic, and heavenly.
Loving. Safe.
Yet their thickness—that safety—suppresses any light. Smothering, suffocating. And won’t let it go. Won’t let it be free.
Unfortunately something was amiss.
Sugarfly would look at the world around her. Beautiful and colorful. Bright and vivid. Then down at herself, her wings. Her heart was full of longing, and envy.
But then Sugarfly began to gaze at Eternal Sugar Cookie in particular and it caught in Pavlova's throat. As her heart screamed of discomfort. For herself, for her past. For memories of burdens, everytime she gazed upon his Master’s form. Sugarfly wanted to take something from her. Pavlova pretended like he didn’t know what, or why.
But Eternal Sugar Cookie took notice.
“Oh my sweet Sugarfly Cookie,” Eternal Sugar said with endearment, though Pavlova cringed at the use of “my.”
“I sense unease in you.”
“I…” Sugarfly is bad at lying.
“I am at your command my dear. Every subject of mine shall find happiness, by any means necessary!”
A small crowd gathers, ritually.
Sugarfly is put on the spot.
“Now, Sugarfly Cookie, what would make you truly happy?”
“Eternal Sugar Cookie I…”
Pavlova watches from a distance, behind a tree, he always makes himself scarce when his Master is around. Sugarfly spots him.
Her wings flutter at the sight of him, confidence.
“My wings are dull, and grey. Your’s are so majestic, and ethereal.” Words from the beholder.
“Please I wish to have wings as colorful and as sweet as your’s!”
Pavlova’s vision shakes as a heat shocks through him.
“My, my, Sugarfly Cookie, what an easy fix!”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” Eternal Sugar Cookie floats, behind Sugarfly, brushing a hand down her delicate wings.
Pavlova feels the phantom chill of her touch on his.
“Why, all we have to do is coat your drab little wings, with the melted sugar of my domain! And they will be as beautiful and as colorful as the land itself!”
Sugarfly smiles and Pavlova shoots into the clearing.
“That’s stupid!”
All turn to Pavlova, some giving small gasps. How dare one of Eternal Sugar Cookie’s own subjects call someone’s happiness stupid.
He freezes for a moment, all eyes on him. But he keeps his ground.
“If you coat your wings in syrup you won’t be able to fly!”
For a second Sugarfly looks heedful. But then regains her determination. Face turning stern.
“I am free to do what I like here!” She shouts back. “I do not have to fight enemies, or hunger. I can lay out and sleep forever if I want!”
The other residents of the garden smile in understanding. Pavlova clenches his teeth, looking around him. This is the paradise he’s fought for too isn’t it? Isn’t it?
“I won't have a need to fly in paradise!”
She turns back up to Eternal Sugar Cookie. “The only wish I have left is to be as beautiful, and as sweet as you Eternal Sugar Cookie!”
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s smile never falters. Even as she gives a glance to Pavlova cookie, and a gasp catches in his throat, as he falls back.
“Pavlova Cookie, you must support your friend. Stay, watch her gain her beautiful new wings!”
Pavlova wants to run away, but he’s held still. Unable to move, caught and smothered by the fear of punishment for running away.
And the fear of letting Sugarfly suffer through this alone.
Sugarfly turns forward, ready to receive her gift. Another of Eternal Sugar’s minions having brought her a bucket of molasses and honey.
“It may pinch, but only for a moment.”
There’s no hesitation as the syrup drowns onto the icing of her head, the start of her wings.
It stings, it’s still hot.
But it’s worth it, it’s worth it Sugarfly reminds herself.
To finally be rid of these bitter wings. Even when she still had color they were remained grey.
It drips down her back, bleeding onto the veins of her wings, so sensitive they are that the heat of the saccharinity burns, and she tries to resist crying from the pain. She’s almost afraid they may tear right off.
Maybe that would be good. Rid herself of these things. The representation of her dull, dutiful life.
No more reminders of the kingdom she once held from.
No remaining piece of that duty, those expections that tried to rob her of life.
No more.
No more.
She tears up. Something, besides her wings hurts.
As she casts a piece of herself away.
And it’s replaced by…
Joy?
Is this finally joy?
She opens her eyes, watery, tears of happiness?
Sugarfly gives an excited gasp.
“A mirror, please! I wish to see my new wings!”
“Right away, my dear Sugarfly Cookie!” Eternal Sugar waves for some cookies to retrieve the requested item.
“In the meantime,” and then turns to Pavlova Cookie.
Pavlova is trembling. Gaze still locked on Sugarfly’s smiling, teary face.
“Pavlova Cookie, please tell me, are my wings as colorful as Eternal Sugar Cookie’s?”
Eternal Sugar Cookie answers instead, “my you might even rival my own! Isn’t that right, Pavlova Cookie?”
Pavlova’s lip quivers. He has to answer, he must, and yet he’s trapped. He finally rips his gaze from Sugarfly, onto his Master’s.
He wishes he hadn’t. The glazed over smile of Sugarfly was more comforting than the look his Master is giving him now.
His Master’s expressions are often subtle, but the one she wears now makes Pavlova shiver. He wants to fly away, escape. Hide.
But that might make things worse, so he can’t.
“Pavlova Cookie, you aren’t being a very supportive friend right now.” Eternal Sugar says, disappointment laced in her voice.
“Here’s the mirror, Eternal Sugar Cookie!” The cookies place it in front of Sugarfly.
She gasps happily. “I–!” More cries of joy shed down her face. “I’m beautiful! I am!”
Sugarfly, distracted, does not hear the denouncing Eternal Sugar Cookie begins towards Pavlova.
“Pavlova cookie, you have stepped out of line.” She says, surgery voice with some disdain. “I’m so disappointed in you.”
Pavlova gasps, catching his head. An awful feeling arising in him.
“How many times must I tell you, to be supportive of our guests, each and every cookie’s happiness is different and deserves respect!”
“That’s…” Pavlova doesn’t get to finish.
“Why must you continue to act like a naive child?”
He feels himself growing small within her presence.
He shrinks, the bleeding across his dough, like he’s melting, changing. Tears stream down his face. As he grows scared, and afraid. Will this feeling ever get easier? How many times must he endure this experience before it never hurts like the first time again.
“You know I do this for your own good. You’re lucky I continue to give you chances to relearn.”
He’s lost something, the memories are still there, but the understanding of them, the reading of them, their perception, turns callow, juvenile. Distant. No. No! That’s the worst part. “Stop!”
“You will once again, have to remain like this until you’ve relearned how to behave like a mature cookie who understands what we do is for the benefit of all cookies. Do you understand?”
He makes a boyish cry, sniffling, a child being scolded.
Pavlova nods, wiping an eye, crying, “I’m sorry!” The voice that comes out of him is his, but a couple decibels higher. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! Change me back! Change me back!” He begs, sobbing.
“My, what a tantrum!”
“No!” That’s not fair! It only sounds like… “Please, I’m sorry!” Pavlova can’t stop himself from crying, from his voice sounding small and infantile.
“I know Pavlova cookie. And that’s how I know you’ll do better this time.” Eternal Sugar Cookie smiles.
She turns over to Sugarfly still in bliss, and awe over her own transformation.
“Sugarfly Cookie, won’t you spend some time with Pavlova Cookie? He could use the company.”
Sugarfly finally looks up from the mirror. “Oh that sounds like a wonderful idea, I would love to walk with the look of my new wings!”
She takes strides over to Pavlova. Not used to the heaviness of her wings.
Pavlova cookie, tear stained and soggy, meets eyes with Sugarfly. And for a fleeting moment, he thinks he sees her tense up, confused. But it fades as she smiles. She suddenly only sees a friend in need.
“Take my hand, Pavlova cookie. Let's walk together, I may need help! I’m not used to this weight.”
Pavlova’s hand shakily reaches out. He’s trembling, the reason as to why, puerile. At least he thinks it is. So he stays silent. He must remain supportive, he must remain kind, and happy. For Sugarfly’s sake.