Chapter Text
It was a warm day in the Garden of Delights, maybe one of the warmest that spring. On this sunny, peaceful day, the five Virtues settled on a picnic blanket to discuss important matters concerning any recent events on Earthbread. Four of them had actually come here a while ago, and were waiting for the fifth — who was now approaching with his horse in tow.
‘Now, Salt, would you mind telling us why you're over half an hour late, despite being the one who wanted this meeting to be held today?’
Fount of Knowledge crossed his arms, a stern expression on his tired face. He eyed Salt of Solidarity up and down, scanning for any signs of an on-the-road accident, sickness, or even resentment. All he found was a subtle, uncharacteristic for Salt giddiness, and traces of stress; none of them were visible on his face, which the helmet covered, but once you've known someone for several centuries, you can tell the signs.
‘I am sorry,’ said the knight, sitting down on the picnic blanket. ‘I was held back. I came here as soon as I could.’ He reached up to pat his intimidatingly large horse on the side; the stallion got the memo and cantered off to munch on the sugary grass of the Garden.
‘Now that you're here, let us proceed with the meeting,’ Flour of Volition said, passing the knight a cup of tea. Fount instantly jumped into action, pulling a stack of papers out of the aether.
‘Alright. First of all, there is the matter of the Dragon Valley…’
The five went on with the meeting as usual, each discussing the recent developments in their domains, as well as outside of them. The only completely silent one was Salt, who was clearly having trouble focusing on what anyone was saying.
‘Salt, dear, are you well?’ Sugar of Happiness set down her teacup and looked at him worriedly. Salt jolted slightly. Fount frowned at that; Salt was never this jumpy, nor was he ever late for meetings. Something was absolutely wrong.
‘Alright, tell us what's the matter,’ Fount said, setting down his current sheet of paper.
‘What gave you the idea that something is the matter?’ Salt set one hand on top of the other — something he frequently did to steady them when he was nervous.
‘It's written all over you,’ Herald of Change chimed in. ‘You're stressed.’
Salt looked like an animal caught in a trap for a moment, looking across all their faces, until giving up and sighing.
‘I have something to give to you. We decided it would be best if I delivered it by hand, which is why I wanted the meeting to take place earlier than usual.’
‘We?’ Fount drilled his eyes into Salt, confused. The knight said nothing, reaching under his cape and pulling out four elegant envelopes, each tinted with the signature colour of each Virtue — beige, blue, pink and red. Aside from that, they all held the same seal: silver, with a butterfly stamped into it.
‘Since when do you deliver mail for people,’ Herald laughed, taking his envelope and ripping into it without hesitation. Fount, Sugar and Flour opened theirs much more politely.
Herald read the contents first, and his mouth fell open, the spark on his eyes igniting with excitement. A moment later, understanding dawned on Sugar's face as well, and she squealed with joy. Flour allowed herself a small, pleased smile. Fount looked back at his letter as quickly as he could, to understand what got his fellow Virtues so happy. The beautiful cursive on the paper went as follows:
Esteemed Fount of Knowledge,
You are hereby invited to the wedding of Salt of Solidarity and Elder Faerie Cookie, who humbly request your presence at the event. It shall take place on the first day of summer, in the Silver Kingdom's palace gardens. The celebrations are expected to last for several following days, during which your presence would be most welcome but not insisted upon.
With kind regards,
Elder Faerie Cookie
Fount stared at the paper, then at Salt, and kept glancing back and forth like that, as though that would somehow clear this news up.
Sugar was already talking by the time he got his bearings.
‘Oh, dear, I'm so happy for you!’ Her voice reached an ultrasound pitch, Fount was pretty sure. ‘Why have you not told us sooner? You know I would have loved to help with the planning! Oh, to think our dear Salt is getting married…’ Her eyes drifted off, dreamily.
‘I didn't know you had it in you!’ Two of Herald's hands reached out to grab Salt, and he used the third to ruffle the knight's smoky plume — for lack of access to his hair. He gave the knight a hug so tight, it might as well have dented his armour.
‘This truly is most splendid news. Though I am surprised you got over your stress for long enough to invite us.’
Fount blinked slowly, staring at Salt.
‘The faerie king?’ He asked, still bewildered. ‘I would never have guessed.’
‘Good to know the Fount of Knowledge can still be caught off guard,’ Salt joked. He joked. That damn cookie never said anything humorous, Fount was pretty sure he never heard the man laugh at all! Oh, Salt was down bad, wasn't he?
‘I'll gladly come! Though it will be hard to think of an appropriate gift,’ Herald spoke up, rubbing his chin.
‘I can give you ideas, dear, I've already got a whole list!’ Sugar clapped her hands together, clearly overjoyed.
‘I will gladly attend as well,’ said Flour of Volition, a gentle smile still on her face. ‘Wouldn't miss a day like that for the world.’
‘Well, obviously I will also come,’ Fount chimed in. He was too lost in thought to say much else. Salt really did catch him off-guard. It was a rare thing for anyone to keep secrets from the Fount of Knowledge, but if anyone could, it was definitely Salt. If only he didn't wear that bucket on his head, then it would be much easier to guess what he was thinking of…
‘Be aware that if he ends up hurting your feelings, I'm chopping his wings off.’
‘Elder Faerie would never,’ Salt said, and they could all see he tensed at the threat. ‘But I am grateful for the goodwill.’
‘I don't suppose any of you want to continue the meeting after this revelation?’ Sugar batted her eyelashes at Fount specifically, knowing he would be the only one who'd want to finish the paperwork.
‘Fine,’ he relented. ‘We were almost done anyway.’
As if on cue, a group of sugar angels arrived and supplied the picnic blanket with plates of dessert and bottles of cold soda.
‘Now, Salt,’ Sugar started with a sly grin, uncapping a soda bottle, ‘tell us about this man of yours.’