Chapter Text
“If you’ll just wait in here, sir,” The faerie escort smiled and gestured to the library.
Pure Vanilla smiled, “Thank you.”
The faerie nodded his head and allowed Pure Vanilla to enter the library before closing the door. Pure Vanilla turned and inspected the faerie kingdom library. Compared to the Spire, the faerie’s library was…modest.
The Fount had numerous libraries and book nooks — really — any room that could hold a book had books in it. When he’d first arrived at the Spire he nearly tripped over books every time he left his room.
But while The Fount’s collection spanned hundreds of thousands of years, in a variety of languages both familiar and dead, the faerie’s library only held scrolls that contained sheet music sharing the creation of Earthbread, cookie-kind, and the Silver Kingdom itself.
He walked through the shelves, simply peeking around and observing the differences between here and home. He kept one hand out by his side to keep from bumping into things. While the library was modest, it was packed in tight and he didn’t want to risk disturbing something.
“Thank you for coming,” a voice Pure Vanilla never wanted to hear again spoke up behind him, “Pure Vanilla Cookie.”
Pure Vanilla’s dough tightened to a near painful degree, but he put on a smile and turned on his heels.
“Saint.”
The Saint of Solidarity stood in the shade of a shelf, his sword sheathed at his side, but one hand gripped the hilt like his life depended on it.
If Pure Vanilla had his way, it would have.
But instead, he kept his gentle smile on his face and remembered his manners. “I was not expecting you, sir.” He gave the smallest bow he could while still remaining respectful.
“Indeed. You were expecting White Lily.” The Saint stalked forward, deliberately slow, his armor barely made a sound as he closed the space between them.
Pure Vanilla stood firmly in place.
With his helmet on, it was near impossible to tell what The Saint was thinking, but his fiery plume was calm, barely fluttering behind him.
“After all, it was her letter you received, no?”
Yes.
He’d received a letter from White Lily, asking to meet and discuss something important. Her letters were always vague, and Pure Vanilla suspected The Saint of Solidarity being the reason why.
So…
He’d been tricked.
Pure Vanilla’s eye twitched in irritation, but he kept the smile on his face, “Ah, well, what is it you need?”
The Saint’s hand curled tighter around the hilt of his sword, “I do not need anything from you, little cookie.” His voice was low and tight, as if he was speaking through clenched teeth. Then, he slowly twisted and cracked his neck.
Pure Vanilla’s smile faltered only for a second before he put it back up.
The Saint straightened his neck out again and exhaled, “However, White Lily put forth an…interesting proposal.”
Pure Vanilla stayed silent.
“She says you have expertise in…accommodations.” The Saint chose his words carefully.
Part of Pure Vanilla wanted to taunt The Saint for his lack of knowledge in cookie accommodation. However, he knew that would only bring fury down on himself, his Fount, and his people, so he just nodded slowly.
“Being blind has its ups and downs.” Was all he answered with. Then he remembered he was talking to a Virtue, so he muttered, "Sir."
“You are to help White Lily Cookie oversee the construction of a new cathedral for me.” The Saint said.
Pure Vanilla blinked, “I - I’m sorry, sir?”
“For someone who shares the soul jam of knowledge, I was hoping I needn’t explain basic language to you.” The Saint fired off quickly, as if he’d been hoping to say something degrading to him.
Pure Vanilla’s face burned and he clenched his fists by his side. “My apologies.” He seethed, “I meant to say, I do not work for you.”
“I’m not asking.”
“Nor am I merely informing you.”
A stalemate.
Before either of them could say something to make matters worse, a third voice huffed irritably, “I told you, you should have just been honest with him.”
White Lily stepped out from around the shelves they were between, “Pure Vanilla Cookie.”
Pure Vanilla relaxed upon seeing his oldest friend, “White Lily Cookie!” He opened his arms as she smiled and came up to hug him.
The pair embraced and laughed with joy.
“I told The Saint he needn’t be all,” She waved dismissively over her shoulder at the Virtue, whose fiery plume brightened and lashed out behind him, “Himself. But he seems to think that intimidation is the only way to get cookies to listen to him.”
Pure Vanilla had to bite his lip from laughing out loud, “Is it true you need help, though?” He tilted his head curiously. He fully intended on ignoring The Saint for the rest of his trip.
“Perhaps not help, so much as guidance.” White Lily admitted, “You would know best, as the other half of the soul jam of knowledge, after all.”
Pure Vanilla smiled, “Well, of course! I’d love to help you, my friend.” Without meaning to, he added, “That’s what friends do. Help each other.”
He was sure the only thing keeping him from being turned into salt crystals and crumbs was White Lily.