Chapter Text
The Vanilla Kingdom’s banquet halls bustled with the sounds of silverware scraping plates and glasses clinking in toast.
Cookies drank to their hearts' content, their conversations ranging from lighthearted banter to deep psychological debates. Gossip was passed around like gravy, pouring over the crowds of attendees.
The Vanilla Kingdom’s annual meeting with the Crème Republic officials was in full swing. Haute Cuisine was served to all guests, and chefs ensured it was created with the finest vegetables and fruits, courtesy of the citizens’ gardens and farms.
At the head of the long dining table sat two figures: one glowing gold, the other radiant blue. The blue cookie seemed to be uninterested in the small talk occurring around him, while the glowing cookie happily participated.
“Ah, Pure Vanilla Cookie, I wasn’t aware you had a guest staying with you,” a politician said, noting the blue cookie’s presence. The politician in question was one of Clotted Cream Cookie’s informants, a short man with quite the large ego.
The blue cookie bared his fangs in the direction of the man’s voice, his eyes slits. Pure Vanilla Cookie slipped a hand under the table, gently grazing the agitated cookie’s thigh in an attempt to soothe him.
“You speak with a sense of familiarity. Do you two perhaps know each other in any way?” Pure Vanilla asked softly. A string of tension was palpable, but the healer tried his best to ignore it.
“I believe we have met before…” The politician murmured, his eyes meeting the Beast’s.
The other man’s voice was deceptive, something Shadow Milk dabbled in from time to time.
Shadow Milk’s hand instinctively found the one gently resting against his thigh, squeezing it tightly. Pure Vanilla gave Shadow Milk’s hand a squeeze back, a reassuring gesture.
“How so?” The healer questioned.
He already began to feel a strong dislike for the way this man looked at his ‘guest’.
The politician leaned back, taking a sip from his glass of berry juice.
“Oh, you know, rumors, gossip. I figured he’d love that kinda thing, so I brought it up earlier,” The man said slyly, eyeing every potential microexpression the Beast could express.
The jester’s face was blank.
Pure Vanilla’s grip on Shadow Milk’s hand tightened, only slightly. He had no intention of inflicting pain on his other half. Besides, ever since the spire’s collapse, Shadow Milk’s pain receptors had been unusually high.
Whenever Pure Vanilla had requested to check on him, he was met with hurtful words and sharp claws.
That didn’t stop the healer from trying, though.
“I see…” Pure Vanilla said slowly, his eyes flickering up to meet the politicians. The other man glanced up, only to be met with an irritated glare from the vanilla cookie.
Pure Vanilla cleared his throat.
“You are aware that Shadow Milk is a changed cookie, yes?” The healer asked, his words lacking their usual soft edge.
The politician, realizing he may have crossed a line, sipped from his glass. That didn’t stop him from pushing further.
“My deepest apologies, Pure Vanilla Cookie. I wasn’t aware of your relationship with the Beast—”
"Silence!”
At once, the entire dining hall went silent. Every face turned in the direction of the command, toward the head of the table. The sound of forks scraping plates ceased. Chatter died down.
Clotted Cream perked a brow, rising from his seat, and folded into a respectful bow.
“Is something the matter, Pure Vanilla Cookie?” The consul asked, concern laced deep in his voice.
Pure Vanilla swallowed thickly. His throat tightened.
Shadow Milk noticed Vanilla’s control begin to slip. Small chatter resumed. Plates against forks—
An echoing cackle was the only warning the congregation received before shadows engulfed the room. A bluish hue radiated from each corner of the dining hall, casting a glow on every cookie.
Pure Vanilla’s eyes filled with relief, and he let out a quiet breath.
“Well, well! Long time no see, Consul of the Crème Republic!” A voice called out, a blue spotlight appearing above the consul.
Clotted Cream stood at the other end of the table, lips pressed together.
“What now, Beast of Deceit?” Clotted Cream sighed, glancing up at the eyes staring back at him from the murky darkness.
Shadow Milk glanced down at Pure Vanilla Cookie, who wore a tight-lipped smile. The Beast’s anger only seemed to intensify from there.
“Your foolish politicians need to learn their place, which, spoiler alert, is below me! Remind them to respect my Pure Vanilla Cookie, or else I’ll be more than happy to take matters into my own hands,” the Beast snapped, the illusion he had created slowly dripping off the walls.
The consul looked up into the King’s eyes, studying them for any signs of distress. Pure Vanilla awkwardly forced a small smile, which the consul did not miss.
The politician sitting near the head of the table seemed skittish, swirling his berry juice absent-mindedly. Clotted Cream narrowed his eyes.
"I… see. I’ll be sure to address my party after the festivities. Thank you for telling me,” he said firmly.
Shadow Milk bit down on the angry retort forming on the tip of his tongue, reluctantly letting the shadows and murkiness fade from the walls. The darkness pooled in the seat next to Pure Vanilla, oozing and dripping like a melting popsicle.
The puddle of darkness reformed into a familiar shape, the murky goop disappearing almost entirely. The Beast collapsed in his chair, his eyelashes fluttering as he shut his eyes for a moment.
To anyone else, this may have just seemed like Shadow Milk was regaining his bearings. But in Pure Vanilla Cookie’s view, Shadow Milk was uncomfortable.
Something was bothering him.
Perhaps even hurting him.
Pure Vanilla hesitantly laid a hand on the other man’s knee, light magic radiating off his fingertips. The Beast bit his lip, suppressing a pained snarl.
Had Pure Vanilla Cookie learned absolutely nothing?
Since when did Shadow Milk say he could just go shoving light magic anywhere he pleased?
“Nilly,” Shadow Milk hissed, glaring down at the healer’s hand, which still rested on the Beast’s knee. “That stings, and you know that,” he spat.
Pure Vanilla Cookie needed Shadow Milk’s vitals. If now was the only time the Beast wouldn’t fuss, Pure Vanilla would use that to his advantage.
It would only take a second—
As Pure Vanilla increased his use of light magic, Shadow Milk gritted his teeth.
“I’m warning you right now, cupcake. Hands off,” Shadow Milk snarled, moving his knee out from under Pure Vanilla’s palm.
Heart rate abnormally low…
Blood pressure could be better, the healer noted.
Maybe if he—
A pained whine ripped from Shadow Milk’s throat.
The noise was enough to send heads turning towards the head of the table once again. Heat rose to the Beast’s cheeks, and he shot upward out of his seat. Why was Pure Vanilla always hovering over him like a mother hen!
He was fine! He was the Beast of Deceit for witches' sake!
As he stood, his vision became spotty. Blackish dots obscured his vision, and a sharp pain shot through his head. His hands came to clutch at his forehead, which throbbed with a dull ache.
By now, many of the dinner’s attendees began to panic. Not for the Beast, of course, but for their own safety around him. Many had gotten up from their seats, making a beeline for somewhere they considered ‘safe’.
“Shadow Milk!”
Two familiar hands slipped under his shoulders, lowering him to the floor slowly and carefully. The intoxicatingly sweet scent of vanilla filled his nose almost immediately.
“Oh dear…” a soft voice muttered. Shadow Milk felt himself being sat upright, seemingly against a wall. Gentle but calloused hands cupped his face, checking his temperature.
“You’re burning up. Can you hear me, love?”
“Mgnh… Nilly?” Shadow Milk groaned, prying his eyes open. Pure Vanilla let out a small sigh of relief, leaning back. The Beast winced involuntarily, his hand coming up to rub at his forehead.
“Please tell me what’s wrong, Shadow Milk,” Pure Vanilla pleaded, his hands still cupping the blue cookie’s face.
Shadow Milk nuzzled into Pure Vanilla’s palms, seeking the warmth radiating off of the healer.
“Mh—It’s nothin’ you needa worry bout’ m’kay?” Shadow Milk slurred, practically melting into Pure Vanilla’s hands.
“It is something I need to be worried about! You’re on the verge of collapsing, and you still won’t tell me what’s going on!” The healer argued.
Shadow Milk mumbled something incoherently before falling forward. With one swift motion, Pure Vanilla caught him.
Shadow Milk was out cold.