Chapter Text
“And this is a good idea because…?”
“He’s still a Cookie. And still deserves kindness. I believe in his willingness to do better, and be better.”
Strawberry Crepe raised a brow, looking from where Black Raisin Cookie exhaustedly interrogated the, frankly, now-overdressed monarch – to where their newest guests stood.
The Beast of Deceit and his two lackeys. Standing there. Menacingly.
Well – menacingly, according to the other Cookies in the hall, who milled about uncertainly and talked between each other. Questioning Pure Vanilla’s decisionmaking, gossiping about what might’ve happen. Was the old king possessed? Corrupted?
Easy way to check.
From their corner, Crepe fiddled with their analyzer, subtly angling it towards Pure Vanilla.
100% Pure vanilla, 89% conviction, and… 11% mischief. That is new… But it’s such a minute amount. There’s no way he’s possessed in the slightest. He really believes in this.
They rolled their eyes at the screen, then glanced towards the liars’ gang. Frowning curiously, they re-angled the analyzer, tilting their head.
Black Sapphire Cookie. 70% pizzazz, 82% cunning, 9% sodium. Shockingly low…
Candy Apple Cookie. 99% artificial sweeteners, 100% devotion, 20% introspection. Huh.
Shadow Milk Cookie. 50% -
Anything that could’ve been gleaned from the analysis was quickly lost as the screen froze and glitched violently, making Crepe flinch back in surprise before tapping the analyzer again.
"That's odd, I’ve never had it glitch out like this before…”
“You know, it’s quite rude to peek behind the curtain without an invitation.”
They jumped again, snapping their head up to see Shadow Milk Cookie leering at them. Crepe yelped, at first, then grunted, frowning as they tugged their cape back into place.
“... You don’t exactly seem like the type to invite someone behind the curtain in the first place.”
“You’re so right! See, the audience’s place is fiiiiiirmly planted in front of the stage,” The blue Beast drawled, tilting his head in a way that almost came off as dangerous; “And I’m starting to get real tired of Cookies trying to sneak backstage like I wouldn’t notice!”
“Sounds like something you’d say if you were scared,” Crepe remarked, unimpressed.
Shadow Milk balked, then scoffed, straightening up and crossing his arms.
“Ugh. Teenagers. I forgot how much I hate Cookies your age, in particular.”
“So, we are all in agreement about the situation?”
Both Beast and engineer tuned back in to the conversation being had at the front of the room. The Cookies around them still seemed unsure, but nodded, and Pure Vanilla Cookie smiled.
“Wonderful. Shadow Milk Cookie, I do believe there’s a tower of the castle we’ve had yet to refurbish; you’re welcome to stay there with your, erh…”
“Minions,” Shadow Milk offered flatly.
“Yes. Your entourage,” Pure Vanilla phrased more kindly; “And remodel the interior to your whims.”
“Well! Isn’t that just some unprecedented generosity,” The Beast crowed with a grin, shrugging as he skipped into the air and floated over to Pure Vanilla’s side, his minions close behind.
The crowds began to disperse, and Black Raisin came to stop beside Strawberry Crepe, sighing heavily and rubbing her temple as she looked down at them.
“... Well?”
“Pure Vanilla’s clean,” They answered, fiddling with their now-fried analyzer with a frown; “The minions are harmless and outmatched, more pomp and glamour than anything of substance.”
“And Shadow Milk…?”
“I don’t know. Look what she did to my analyzer!”
They grumbled, holding up the little device. Black Raisin frowned sympathetically, patting their shoulder as they lowered it again, continuing to yammer.
“It’s hard to tell… He was definitely trying to seem scary and mysterious, but it felt like talking to an injured cakehound. Y’know… It can still hurt you, but more because it’s hurting and wary, not because it wants to make the first move. I think we can trust Pure Vanilla on this one.”
“Then we do, like always.”
She sighed, helping them to stand - supporting them as they whined in discomfort and stretched stiff, aching legs - and walked out of the castle at their side.
“But if any of them give you, or anyone else, any problems…”
“You’re the first to call, I know,” They huffed.
Black Raisin glanced down with a raised brow, then scoffed and ruffled their hair - prompting a disgruntled squawk, and a smile Crepe tried to smush down.
“You’d best play nice, too. We’re representing the Vanilla Kingdom.”
“Yeah, yeah! I will! Don’t get your dough in a twist,” They chuffed, shoving her lightly and prompting a laugh; “I’ll play nice or whatever. If you can lend me a hand while I’m fixing this.”
“I have a little time. Sure,” She agreed, following them down to the workshop - for now, the matter of the Beast put out of their minds.
. . .
“I’ll give you space and time to settle in. I’ll be downstairs in the palace if you need anything –”
“Yuhuh, okaaaaay, I know where to find you! Buhbye!”
Pure Vanilla sighed in amusement as he marched back down the stairs. Shadow Milk Cookie waited until he couldn’t hear the healer’s footsteps at all, then rolled his eyes and collapsed into the dusty old bed still left at the tower’s apex.
Candy Apple Cookie melted to the floor, and Black Sapphire leaned against a wall, the two minions sighing in equal exasperation.
“... Good grief, what an annoyingly long travel and lecture…”
“So much walking…! So many stairs,” Candy Apple whined; “And no shortcuts! I’m so tired…”
Shadow Milk was quiet, his face buried in the blankets. Black Sapphire tilted his head, raising a brow towards his master.
“... So. Not trying to question you, master,” He spoke slowly; “Never trying to question, of course. But… What is the play here, exactly? You’re not seriously surrendering everything to be friends with Pure Vanilla Cookie?”
Candy Apple gasped, shooting up from the floor to glare at Black Sapphire.
“How dare you even suggest that?! Master Shadow Milk Cookie would never stoop so low as to play second fiddle to some - some, some… Half-baked healer!”
“It’s called a leading question, Apple. Get with the program, would you?”
When Shadow Milk’s answer still didn’t come, Black Sapphire sloooowly tilted his head, raising a brow.
“... Boss?”
Growling, Shadow Milk Cookie rolled onto his back, glaring at the ceiling.
“You two,” He gritted out, lifting an arm to wave a hand dismissively; “Go choose your rooms, would you? Give a playwright time to adjust his script.”
Both of them sprung upright, swallowing.
“Y-yes, master Shadow Milk Cookie!”
“You know how to find us!”
As they went running out of the room to choose their rooms at his behest, Shadow Milk Cookie was granted blissful solitude. He slumped, sighing, and drew his hands down his face.
Let me be your… Friend.
Friend?
… There was a world where he rejected that. He could feel it in his chest; everything he really wanted, all the little things he dared not linger on the concept of too long. The attention of One. His full power, in his control again. A world that no longer took life so seriously.
A friend, yes, was on that list. But, for a second, his worst parts had snarled; that’s not enough. That is NOT enough to concede this! And you’re not foolish enough to take the offer!
But another, softer, quieter part - that part, stronger for just a moment alone, dared to question it.
Can’t we settle?
It’s been a long time. We’re tired. Even if it’s short-lived, even if it’s temporary, we can rest for a little bit. What has all this gotten us, anyway? Isolation, imprisonment? A battered body? Spilled jam? Don’t we regret anything? Haven’t we learned anything?
… He didn’t like the truth. Never had, really. The truth hurt. It was a slap in the face and salt in the wound (Ha, haha. That one was going to catch up to him, soon, too.) – it was something he wished to no longer waste precious time dwelling on.
And yet. And yet.
“It’s a long game,” He lied to himself, out loud - so he could believe it; “It’s just a long game. It’s not serious. Bide my time, gather my strength. Play on some subterfuge to get what I want. Yes… A long game.”
Dust swirled along beams of light, and Shadow Milk watched it idly for a moment before taking a breath and sitting up in bed, looking around the drab, outdated room with a frown and cracking his knuckles, bringing his muse back into frame.
“... Right! First things first, this green room needs some flavour! Let’s get to work.”