Chapter Text
Pure Vanilla sat at his desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a groan. This headache he’d been neglecting had finally caught up with him, and he was not happy with it. He looked down at the half-finished parchment, the words all blurring together into inky splotches. With a sigh, he sat up and made his way to the small bathroom connected to his chambers, collecting the small glass that had sat empty on his desk for the last two hours. He stared at his reflection in the mirror as he waited for the water to become cold – he looked dreadful. Pure Vanilla grimaced and looked back down at the running water, testing the temperature with his hand. Deeming it cold enough, he filled up the glass and drank it down in one. With a small cough, he made walked back to his desk and sat back down, determined to finish this letter before retiring to sleep. It was just one letter, he thought to himself, he’d be able to finish it.
Shadow Milk returned to a passed-out Pure Vanilla, lightly snoring over a half-finished letter.
Shadow Milk didn’t tend to spend his days in the Vanilla Kingdom, he was still exceedingly disliked by most of the population – bar one, and to be fair, it was the only one he cared that much about. The others who didn’t like him could all suck eggs. He spent most of his time in the other-realm, occupying his… well, they weren’t really minions. Occupying Black Sapphire Cookie and Candy Apple Cookie, the only days he spent his time solely in the kingdom was when Pure Vanilla wasn’t on duty, which was once in a blue moon. He’d return late nights, where he’d be greeted by a delighted Pure Vanilla, waiting to settle down into his embrace and sleep away any troubles that they had endured that day. Usually, a tantrum from a council member, or Candy Apple Cookie. Which is why he immediately was confused to see Pure Vanilla out cold at his desk, quill still in hand.
He ran a hand down his face with a sigh, and with a flick of his wrist, the king floated gently up into the air, across the room, and onto the bed with a soft thud. Shadow Milk snapped his fingers, and the two of them were changed out of their day clothes and into their nightwear. He pulled the sheets over himself and his other-half, curling into the nook of Pure Vanilla’s arm, which the blonde unconsciously wrapped around him. The night passed without much complaint.
It was the morning, however, that did not.
Pure Vanilla awoke feeling as if he had crumbled there and then. His muscles weak, his head splitting in two, sweat dripping from his forehead. He brought a weak hand to his face with a distressed murmur, to which a certain blue cookie perked up and looked at him, immediately alert.
“You oka- witches, Nilla!” Shadow Milk cringed at the sight before him, Pure Vanilla groaned, he must look awful if Shadow Milk had reacted like that. The blue cookie pressed a hand to his forehead, his face becoming even more incredulous at whatever he had felt.
“You feel like an oven, Vani, what the hell happened?” He exclaimed, sitting up fully now. Pure Vanilla couldn’t reply, well, he could, but he didn’t feel like it.
“Okay, so you are not attending your duties today.” Shadow Milk stated, to which Pure Vanilla flashed him a panicked expression, which was met by a raised eyebrow and a frown.
“No. Absolutely not. There’s no way on Earthbread that you’re doing anything for at least a week.” He sniped, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The other Ancients are visiting today...” The distressed king rasped out, reaching out a weak hand to grab onto Shadow Milk’s wrist.
“So? I’ll tell them you’re sick. They can come see for yourself if they don’t believe me.” Shadow Milk shrugged, making to get out of bed. Pure Vanilla let out a whine, the thought of his friends seeing him in such a state already embarrassing him, and it hadn’t even happened. Shadow Milk let out a sigh.
“You know, Nilla. For a healer, you sure are stubborn about looking after yourself.” He chuckled, standing – or more accurately, hovering – up. With a twirl, his usual attire appeared, he floated over to the mirror, adjusting his soul jam. “Just admit you need one day off. You look like a dying Victorian child.”
Pure Vanilla admitted to no such thing. And he looked fine, thank you very much.
His friends were due to arrive at noon, so he had a whopping three hours to feel better, and much to his distaste Shadow Milk was still trying to convince him that he was sick, which he wasn’t. He was a healer, he knew when an individual was ill, for witches’ sake! He was just… fatigued.
He dragged himself out of bed, walking over to the mirror and leaning on the golden frame with one hand, looking up at his reflection, he really didn’t look that great, did he? Dark purple circles had settled under his eyes, and his eyes looked almost glazed, now that he was so close to his reflection, he could hear his shallow breath, coming out in wheezes.
Okay, maybe he was a little under the weather.
Pure Vanilla ran a hand over his face, walking into the bathroom and drawing himself a warm bath, that would help, he thought. And it did, for a while anyway, the headache that had backed down almost as soon as his body hit the water came back as soon as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He let out a groan.
After debating on admitting Shadow Milk was right or not, he decided with a huff that he’d dry his hair, get dressed, and greet his friends, and they’d all have a lovely day.
Just as Pure Vanilla reached for his staff, hair up in a plait and still slightly wet, Shadow Milk glided through the door, face immediately looking pissed.
“Whatcha doing there, Nilla?” He asked with an unimpressed eyebrow raised, arms folded over his chest.
“Going to greet my frie-“ His answer was cut off by a coughing fit which almost knocked him off his feet, after it had subsided, he looked back up to see an even more unimpressed Shadow Milk, if that was even possible.
“Well, your ‘frie’ can wait. Get back into bed.” Shadow Milk replied, deadpan. Pure Vanilla just shook his head.
“I’m not too fond of the idea of disappointing my friends. They’ve come to my kingdom, and I can’t even greet them? That seems rather rude if you ask mph-!” He was stopped by a powder blue hand covering his mouth.
“One day, you’ll stop saying stupid things, and it will be a glorious day for all cookiekind.” Shadow Milk said with a small chuckle. Pure Vanilla gently moved his hand away from his mouth.
“At least let me greet them.” He challenged; a pleading look in his eyes. Shadow Milk sighed, eyes rolling.
“Fine. But you’re telling them you’re sick, then coming straight back here, deal?”
“Deal.” The king replied with a soft laugh.
Shadow Milk watched as Pure Vanilla walked out the room, as soon as he was out of his view, a small, worried feeling gnawed at him.
He’d follow him, just in case.