Chapter Text
“Ill met by moonlight, Pure Vanilla Cookie," the Moonflower Fairie sighs, her expression darkening as she glares at the intruder with piercing crimson eyes.
“It would not be so ill had you taken my suggestions into proper consideration...”, the former speaks, voice laced with irritation which he tries in vain to conceal with his usual gentleness. He has nothing but bitterness left to give.
White Lily rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her silken white corset. Her transparent wings twitch in disapproval, and the bell on her staff jingles a melancholic tune.
“I see no reason to converse with you, after all you heed no respect to my dealings just like you claim I do, instead vouching for me to change my ways. I have lived in this kingdom for much longer than you have, thus I can tell you with certainty that you lack the knowledge and experience to rule.”
“That may be so, my lady, but I still beg of you to consider the faeries’ viewpoints before speaking out a new order. Of late you’ve only paid attention to the safety of the kingdom, making our faeries work for days on end. They need rest! We aren’t under attack at present, so please, let them be invigorated and joyous for a while. Don’t you know that happy faeries work more efficiently?”, the Faerie King cries, his light blond bangs swaying ferociously in the emerging wind as he makes wild gestures.
White Lily Cookie merely shakes her head; she has already made her decision. “You utterly bore me. I am well aware of everything you are saying, and yet I am reminding you once again that you lack the expertise to make such decisions. Only I know what is best for the forest.”
“If that is what you think, then I will be taking my leave, for I do not want to stay with a heartless queen any longer," he mutters in disbelief. “I will return to one of my outposts. Do not attempt to look for me. I do not wish to speak with you for now.”
Having said that, he leaves hastily, his quick steps echoing against the silver barks of the trees.
Once he arrives at his quarters, he lets himself sink into his cushioned bed hanging by vines in the tree tops. A sigh escapes him as he places a hand over his heart plagued by a newfound emptiness.
How can he rest, when all of his thoughts are occupied by his argument with the queen? How can he sleep without her next to him? How can he live, when she’s in his life no more?
He makes a pleading call to his fairies to sing him a lullaby. They oblige, humming a soft tune while gently swaying his bed, until he finally drifts off into slumber.
He does not wake, even when the sulking Fairie Queen leans over him to spread the nectar of a certain flower over his eyelids.
Said flower, the love-in-idleness, will make him forget his love for her entirely, instead convincing him to fall for the first creature he sees; be it a Cookie or an animal. Thus, he will lose interest in ruling the kingdom by her side, and she will be the sole monarch.
She chuckles softly, convinced of the brilliance of her plan, before taking off and returning to the palace.
“This certainly is no great stage to play on…”, sighs the uprising actor, Shadow Milk Cookie, as he steps into the small clearing in the deep forest, “But, she won’t find me here, so I suppose it is worth the pain.”
He places his pouch containing utensils and props onto a small rock so they wouldn’t be wet by the morning dew, before running his hands through his short but perfectly styled hair.
It does feel a little embarrassing to act somewhere anyone could go and watch him, but if he were to practice in his chambers, surely she would emerge from the shadows once again, mocking him for changing his lines.
With shaking hands, he throws the massive, crimson coat over his dark blue uniform, and sets the glamorous golden crown onto the top of his head. Fully immersing himself into his roles even during practice is part of his job, after all, he assures himself as he takes his sword in his hands.
He steals one last glance onto the gem in his chest – a mere prop that she had left for him, insisting that it was the most important part of the outfit. He hasn’t had the time to get rid of it yet, but he decides to pay no mind to it for now. It does look intriguing, one half colored red like his robes, the other blue resembling his dough. It’s merely the thought of her that haunts him at the expense of his precious sleep.
Upon exhaling deeply one last time, he finally begins acting out his lines. The script? Nowhere to be seen. Shadow Milk Cookie has already learned all of his lines by heart, such is expected of the greatest actor on all of Earthbread.
“The service and the loyalty I owe, in doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part is to receive our duties; and our duties are to your throne and state children and servants, which do but what they should, by doing everything safe toward your love and honor. What is this? The writing of this script is totally boring! What does she hope to achieve by putting an actor of my caliber on such lines?!”, he yells furiously, rubbing his temples.
“I would agree. The context of the lines does not give much space for your own interpretation. It makes your beautiful voice sound much too monotonous," a soft voice chuckles above him.
Shadow Milk drops his sword in shock and looks up at once. Someone has seen him? He hopes dearly that this Cookie isn’t some lunatic admirer, for he has had his fair share of Cookies trying to snatch him off the streets whenever he’s alone.
To his surprise, the figure above smiles at him warmly. His long, golden hair falls over the railing of the large object he is sitting on. His mismatched blue and golden eyes are locked with those of the actor, and gleaming with excitement. At once, he jumps down.
Shadow Milk instinctively opens his arms, letting the other sink into them even if it means breaking his bones. Fortunately, the stranger weighs practically nothing.
“What a gentleman you are!”, he sings. Giggling, he taps the actor’s nose. “And how charming. What a beautiful face you have. Oh, I think I’ve fallen in love with you~”
Shadow Milk’s jaw drops at once, as the stranger’s hands cup his face and play with his features as though he is some exotic animal.
Just earlier this morning, he had decided to practice his lines in solitude in the forest. Now, a man had jumped into his arms and confessed his love for him.
He merely wants one place to practice his lines in peace. Is that too much to ask for? He can’t help snapping.
“What are you saying? You must’ve lost your mind! I am merely a passerby, you don’t know me, how can you claim to love me? What is this mockery? Has she hired you to do this? Is this a set-up to make me spiral even further into insanity?! Get off now, I don’t want to see you!”, he cries, dropping the stranger, turning on his heel and running toward the little rock.
Just as he grasps his pouch, a warm hand creeps up his nape.
It is within an instant that his vision turns blurry, and his ability to think fails him. All of the absurdity of the situation no longer fazes him.
In one sluggish motion, he turns around, before falling face first into the blond’s embrace. With his last bit of strength, he tries prying one of his reddened eyes open to stare at the fanatic who is abducting him.
“I’m sorry, did I scare you? I understand that mortals like you become afraid in the presence of us Faeries, but I cannot let you leave…”, the stranger sighs, tilting his head. His palms cup the other’s face gently. “Especially since you’re such a fine specimen. I have never touched any dough as pristine as yours… It almost feels like a waste for you to be a mortal. You know, I could grant you immortality.”
The actor stares up at his captor, while his vision begins fading away. Just what kind of situation has he gotten into this time? Eventually, his ability to listen to the other’s voice slips away, and his eyelids flutter shut.
“… What do you think- Huh?”, the Faerie King carefully detaches the limp body of the mortal from himself, before a gentle chuckle escapes him once more, “My, I didn’t expect you to fall asleep from that. I only meant to change your mind. How strange. You must have not been exposed to faerie magic before. Oh, and look at your poor little eyes! You haven’t had a good rest in weeks, have you? But no matter! I’ll bring you to a quiet place so you can sleep it all out~”
Quiet tunes softly guide Shadow Milk Cookie back to the waking world. When he opens his eyes, he can see the gentle rays of sunshine peeking through the treetops.
“Oh, I must’ve fallen asleep after acting for so long…”, he deduces, yawning, “After all, she has been haunting me for days on end. I don’t suppose I’ve had such a peaceful rest ever since meeting her…”
A content smile spreads across his face. “What brilliant idea it was to come to this forest. Even though I had a strange dream… About this self-proclaimed Faerie King attempting to kidnap me… How strange. Lately, all my dreams have been about my play, which certainly does not contain any faeries. Well, no matter. I should get up and practice my lines one last time before going home!”
Finally, he makes the effort to sit up, but when he does, the ground beneath him begins to sway softly. Confused, he looks around. “This is not the forest floor! What softened my place of rest was not a delicate carpet of moss, but a mountain of pillows! Whose bed did I fall asleep in? Oh, witches…”, he shrieks, ready to faint once again.
“That would be mine," a familiar voice whispers, before the Faerie King emerges from below, and sits in front of the uprising actor. The latter quickly pulls his legs to his body, and reaches for his sword, but it’s nowhere to be found.
Anxiously, he stares up at the Cookie in front of him, finally attaining his first proper look at him. The Fairie King wears a small, translucent crown and a leaf-made wreath on top of his head; it’s no match against the crown he is required to wear for his character of Macbeth. There’s a small star in the color of the actor’s dough on his forehead. Has it always been there, or has the lunatic tattooed it on himself due to his raving obsession with him?
His long, light blond hair is braided on the left side of his head, while it falls freely on the other. It looks a bit silly – certainly nothing like something a respectable figure would wear.
On his blue hydrangea collar sits a little gem just like the actor’s own. His dark green coat resembles leaves, and beneath it he seemingly wears white pants.
“Cat got your tongue? You’re so quiet all of a sudden, I thought you were pretty talkative before~”, the Cookie he has been eyeing up and down chuckles, tearing him out of his thoughts.
“Who are you? What do you want from me?”, Shadow Milk hisses, ignoring the other’s words.
The Fairie King’s smile wavers. At last, he begins to explain. “Dearest, you must be awfully confused. I apologize, I tend to talk around the bush a lot. I am the Fairie King, but you may also call me Pure Vanilla Cookie. I used to rule over this forest together with my queen, but yesterday I have left her," he sighs, placing his hand on his gem, “But when I saw you, I realized that I do not need her any longer. Instead, I need you. It was love on first sight.”
The actor’s expression darkens. He has not the least bit of respect for the deranged, even though he is well aware that he is on the best way to become one himself. “You’re crazy if you earnestly think that I am going to believe any of this! Love on first sight is something that only exists in theatre. I would know, for I have played many such roles, and yet I felt nothing towards them. The moment I leave the stage, I rid myself of all emotion. Perhaps you should try something like this too before you start drugging and kidnapping innocent men!”
“Ah, you are a mortal, you may not have heard of us… But I truly am a Faerie, I can show you," the blond responds merely, opening his palms.
“That’s not even what I was denying!”, screams the actor, before his eyes meet the shining object in the other’s hands. A small butterfly enveloped in an azure glow floats from his hands, lands on top of his prosperous crown, and materializes into pure gold. The latter immediately takes the accessory into his hands and examines it with an open jaw.
“How did you do this?!”, Shadow Milk Cookie asks frantically, as he places the crown back where it belongs.
Pure Vanilla Cookie chuckles softly, “I told you, I am the-“
“Enough! I get it now! You’re the Faerie King," cries Shadow Milk Cookie. He takes a glance at the ground. It seems that this bed is further up in the trees than he had expected. If he attempts jumping down, he’d surely break all of his bones.
And yet… He would have to act out his play soon, and for that he needed to get down there. Then, he would run, until he sees the gates of the city from afar, and never once look back.
“Alright, sir Faerie King…”, he begins, but the other disrupts him with a smile plastered onto his face that makes his blood boil.
“Pure Vanilla Cookie, to you.”
“Whatever!”, he shouts in fury, “Will you bring me down here? I’m getting sick from the constant swaying…” He puts a hand over his mouth as though he’s about to throw up, and watches the Fairie King’s expression twist into pure shock.
“Of course, of course! Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you would get sick… I can’t let you get sick! I failed as a partner, oh dear…”, he panics, as he scoops the actor up bridal, and floats down with him slowly, making sure he is steady in his grasp.
Shadow Milk can’t help but grin widely, baring his sharp fangs. Once again, he has fooled another with his magnificent art of acting!
When he looks up at the Faerie King, a strange feeling emerges in his chest. The Cookie carrying him seems… quite nice. Apart from the kidnapping, of course. He is gentle, caring, and seemingly unconditionally in love. Plus, he possesses magical powers, turning nothing into pure gold, and flying in the air.
His cheeks begin turning a deep shade of crimson. Just how could he be thinking about any of this?! This is wrong! His career is certainly more important than… The literal Faerie King? A real, magical being who can create gold out of nothing, living in the forest where no ungrateful, uneducated critics would ever reach him, let alone… her? A Faerie King who could grant him nothing but happiness for the rest of his life?
He averts his gaze with guilt. It does feel a little wrong to use someone’s love like that… But alas, the both of them would get something out of it: Bliss. Pure and unadulterated bliss.
Shadow Milk is a passionate Cookie. But his biggest passion, apart from acting, is living comfortably. And this big of a chance would surely not emerge twice.
When the other finally sets him onto the ground, Shadow Milk doesn’t run. When he takes his hand in his, he doesn’t run. He follows him. Watches his coat swing as he walks slightly in front of him. He is mesmerized. Or at least, he acts like it.
“I’ve prepared a banquet for you while you were asleep," the Faerie King smiles after a short walk as the two arrive at a little table in the open forest. There’s six seats in total. Four of them are occupied by other Cookies with translucent wings.
As if in a daze, Shadow Milk sits down on the chair the other pulls out for him. He looks down at the food on the table
In front of him lay the finest pastries he’s ever seen. Something he could afford only once in his entire lifetime.
“You’re letting me have all of this… for free?”, he asks, stunned. The other nods as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
Shadow Milk decides not to waste any more time. He helps himself to a big scoop of blueberry sorbet. It tastes divine – so divine in fact, he even forgets the king’s lingering gaze on himself.
“So, what is your name?”, the actor asks the Faerie next to him with newfound confidence after his third glass of absinthe.
“Cobweb Cookie, mortal," the Faerie responds briefly and monotonously as she refills his glass a fourth time.
“She’s adorable, don’t you think? My most loyal Faerie. Apart from these four, my queen took all of them with her…”, the Faerie King sighs, cutting off a piece of raspberry souffle and placing it on his plate.
“Yeah, she’s great…”, snickers the actor, before turning to the other side with a big grin plastered onto his face, “And who are you?”
Somewhat flustered by the sudden question, the Faerie responds, “Peaseblossom Cookie, sir.”
“What a fine gentleman you are… You are well-suited for the role of Macduff. I wouldn’t mind being slain by you~~”, Shadow Milk Cookie slurs as he sips on his drink.
“Master, what is he talking about?”, Peaseblossom Cookie asks without turning around, while keeping up a gentle smile and patting the blue-hued Cookie’s shoulder.
“He’s an actor. A very drunk actor. He’s merely talking about his play, please don’t actually slay him...”, Pure Vanilla sighs, finally getting up from his chair and walking over to his guest. He picks up his glass and takes a sip, before grimacing.
“Who of you four gave him the strongest absinthe in the entire Faerie Kingdom? This is pure alcohol," he asks in a stern voice, looking around.
Cobweb Cookie fails to suppress her childish giggling. “My king, I thought it strange of you to fall for someone else so quickly after just leaving the queen! And for a mere mortal, at that! So, I wanted to show you his real self. You know, since Cookies become the most sincere when they are drunk. See, how could you fall for someone so pathetic?” She points at the hiccupping Cookie wearing a big smile. “He’s not even a real king, yet he carries a crown more prosperous than you! Is that not blasphemous?”
“I cannot believe you’d mistrust me this way. We’ll talk about this in the morning, Cobweb Cookie. Please, leave for now," the Faerie King speaks, his voice low but his words clear.
“I was only trying to help you see the truth! He’s not worth your time!”, she screams, but Peaseblossom Cookie grabs her by the shoulders and drags her away. He’s her brother, so Pure Vanilla trusts that he will take care of this well. He sighs in relief, before turning to face his beloved once again.
The latter has got his hands on his glass once more, and emptied the contents of the bottle in it. He looks dangerously drunk.
“Dear, just how high is your tolerance?”, the king shrieks as he yanks the glass away at once, “Any mortal I know would have crumbled by now.”
Shadow Milk Cookie simply shrugs, before breaking out into wild giggling. The image of the Cookie before him appears twice.
At this point, he can’t take this seriously any longer. Especially considering his current state of mind.
He’s literally sitting at a banquet in the woods, eating the finest pastries and drinking the most expensive liquor with a Faerie King attached to his hip, all because he ran away from the ‘genius playwright’ for a day to practice his lines in peace.
“This is all so absurd!”, he yells, as his manic laughter echoes through the forest.
“Darling, what is absurd?”, asks the king carefully, placing the back of his fingers atop the other’s crimson cheek. “You’re very hot…”, he states, gently grasping his swaying shoulders so as to keep him from falling.
“The stupid Faerie King thinks I’m hot…”, the actor blurts out the moment his giggling finally ceases. His half-lidded yet sharp eyes glare at the blond, and his lips are curled into a wide grin. “Acting like this is not entirely his fault… He makes me laugh.”
Pure Vanilla Cookie’s face twists into shock. Is this truly how the other feels about him? And even if that’s the truth… Why can’t he help but love him? Why must he find this careless behavior endearing? What is stopping him from putting an end to all of this, and letting him go back to his mortal friends?
“Oh, stupid Faerie King…”, the slurred yet somehow melodic voice tears him out of his thoughts, “He wants to kiss me so badly… stupid Faerie King… got nothing but indecency in his head…”
The Cookie’s head sways. He almost looks like he’s about to pass out. Just then, his hands wander up the blond’s nape, he grasps him at once and pulls him close.
Their lips touch, and the moment they do, Pure Vanilla Cookie melts right into the kiss. This feels different than the affections he has shared with White Lily Cookie. It feels… more real. Yes, he loves this drunk little mortal.
His hands move to the back of the other’s head, grasping his short hair. The latter lets out a moan which interrupts the kiss, but not even a second later, his lips are sealed off once more. His arms move desperately around the king’s head, keeping him in place.
Through the mindless affections, the actor begins to ponder. If staying here means eating to his heart’s content every single day, having a relationship with a not half-bad – who was he kidding, very attractive man, and never having to worry about anything, then… why not indulge in this insane daydream for a while?
He shrieks as Pure Vanilla Cookie’s knee finds its way in between his legs. The shift in weight is enough to tip the chair over; when it falls, both Cookies land on the soft grass. However, none of this stops them from sharing this kiss.
“’Nilla-!”, the actors shrill voice tears through the air, before the healer’s tongue finally finds its way in between his lips. His head begins to spin and his hands fall to the side as he lets the other explore him freely.
Despite his obvious stupor, it does not feel as if he’s lost control. Rather, this state only enhances his sober feelings. He steals a curious glance at the Cookie above him. Though he cannot see much in this position, he feels obligated to admit that the view is quite nice.
Pure Vanilla smiles at the new pet name. He reaches out to gently cup the other’s cheek in his hands. He’s comfortably warm, and his dough is delicate. His little ears are round unlike his own pointy ones.
This is his first time he’s ever allowed himself to touch a mortal – and he has to admit, it does feel more exciting than anything he’s ever done with the queen.
Another muffled moan escapes the actor’s lips. The roughness of the kiss combined with the gentle affections is too much for his spinning little head. Tears start forming in his eyes.
The Faerie king feels the wetness on his fingers, and thus pulls back in concern. Not before the gem on his chest touches that of the actor however, and a shudder wanders through the latter’s body.
“Are you alright, my dear?”, the blond asks, voice full of concern. Swiftly, he wipes the tears away from his beloved’s face.
“No… I… She felt this…”, the blue-hued Cookie stammers, covering his reddened face with his hands.
“Who do you mean? Who is ‘she’? Your wife?”, the blond asks with concern in his voice. Concern for the Cookie beneath him, but also, concern for the fact he might have fallen for a cheating man.
“No, she is not my wife! I loathe her. She’s the playwright of the play I should be practicing for… The play I was practicing for this morning, when you abducted me…”, Shadow Milk sobs. Despite the tough act he had put on earlier, he seems genuinely upset.
“What makes you think she can feel this? Feel what, exactly?”, the blond asks soothingly, drawing comforting circles into the other’s cheeks; an action meant to calm him down.
The latter relaxes significantly and shuts his eyes. He has never felt this vulnerable before. It confuses him – but at the same time, it feels great.
“I’m not sure,” he begins after a while, long after the Fairie King has already pronounced him unconscious, “It’s that gem on my chest… When you touched it… I could see her turning her head towards me and glancing at me with this stern expression. It felt like she was actually there. Maybe that’s just the alcohol messing with my head, but…”
“Probably," the blond chimes in with a chuckle. Shadow Milk opens his eyes in confusion, and they meet Pure Vanilla’s.
His mismatched eyes are dazzling, one resembling the sun, the other the moon. He cannot pull away any longer; somehow, they seem too familiar.
Somehow, he remembers them to be more considerate. Gentler.
No matter. Even if this Faerie King is selfish and mannerless, he is also stunning. The actor runs his fingers through his long blond hair gently, as gently as one can be when one has swallowed an entire bottle of absinthe.
He sighs heavily, and his alcoholic breath meets the blond’s nostrils.
“Dearest Fairie King, no, dearest Pure Vanilla Cookie…”, his voice is quiet, unsteady and slurred, but there’s a certain melancholic tone behind it, “Oh, you cannot possibly fathom how I yearn to tell you that you are right, that I should forget all about this for all I can care about is you, that it is merely the absinthe and that I am not haunted by her, but I can’t. She influences my life in ways so horrible and gruesome you cannot imagine. I fear you cannot understand me – of course not, you are all-powerful, while I’m just a mere mortal. But you’re also self-absorbed. You do not care about me as a Cookie, do you? Please, answer me a simple question…”
He takes a theatrical pause, a serious expression on his face. His body quivers slightly, but his piercing, ice-cold gaze makes more than up for it.
“What is my name?”
A flustered blush appears on the king’s face as he pulls away somewhat. His mouth opens in an attempt at answering the question, but it closes again shortly after. For the first time of his life, he is at a loss for what to say. Fortunately, the actor takes on that role for him, all that melancholy washed off of him as if it never existed in the first place. He is an actor after all… Pure Vanilla Cookie is unable to tell which of his moods is real and which isn’t. Perhaps they both are. Perhaps, neither are.
“Tsk tsk, stupid, self-righteous Faerie King, too excited about making me his to even ask for my name," he giggles, his eyes having returned back to their unfocused, unreadable nature, “I get it, I’m desirable. But geez, you have no manners.”
The Faerie King is crimson red by now. His arms are not going to hold out much longer; they’re quivering from embarrassment and losing height slowly. Rushing into romance with a man whose name he had no knowledge of is foolish, and yet… When he looks at the other’s soft features beneath him, the enchanting eyes and his mysterious smile… He cannot help but fall all over for him again.
“Say, love, what is your name?”, he stammers at last, earning himself the widest, proudest grin he’s ever seen in his life.
“Shadow Milk Cookie, to you," the actor whispers, licking his lips, “And I want you to remember my name. I’m not some encounter for a single night, nor a grief-counselor for the loss of your queen. I am a genius actor, and it is not you who is allowing me to be in your presence, but me who is gracing you with my light. For one day, no, one night, I will not be afraid. I will not dance to anyone’s strings. I will spend my night how I want to – with you," he grasps the faerie harshly by the collar and draws him near, “So, self-righteous Pure Vanilla Cookie… Dance for me.”
Just like usual, the Faerie King awakens with the gentle rays of morning sunlight. He stretches slowly, as best as he can while another’s face is buried in his chest, and yawns quietly.
A warm smile spreads across his face as he looks down at the curled up form of his beloved, who is still in deep slumber. Groggily, he recalls the previous night’s unprecedented events, while his hand wanders toward the back of his head – his scalp still hurts a little.
Shadow Milk cannot remember where he is, or what has happened to him, but he recalls a sweet dream. Exhausted, he forces one eye open halfway. What he sees stuns him.
He’s wrapped from head to toe in a warm, comfy blanket – but that is about everything he’s wearing.
What’s worse is that his head is resting atop the Faerie King’s chest, whose white shirt has slipped way too far down for his liking. He shrieks and heaves himself up at once.
Bad decision. The sudden movement results in a spike of nausea; when he finally opens his eyes to look for a place to vomit, the sunlight blinds him, which adds to his headache.
When the blond’s arms envelope him he screams from total overstimulation, until a kiss onto his forehead relieves him from his hangover, and calms him down at once. He sinks into the embrace passively, a weak sigh escaping him.
“There, all better now?”, asks the Faerie King, smiling. Shadow Milk Cookie nods slowly, trying to process everything as his breathing steadies. The other gives him all the space he needs, even adjusts the blanket when it slides off his shoulders.
Eventually, he sluggishly nuzzles his face back against the Faerie's chest. This action evokes a smile to spread across the latter's face, and he gently nudges his cheek in response. “You’re adorable, do you know that? Your dramaturgy never fails to amuse me.”
A small smile creeps up the actor’s face as he recalls more and more of yesterday’s events. The spell that the Faerie has worked on him is doing wonders, granting him new energy and alleviating his headache.
“Oh Pure Vanilla Cookie, I wasn’t acting… I was wholly surprised to find out none of this was a dream,” he sighs at last, his eyes closed in tranquility, “Now that it is my second time waking up in this bed, I have to admit that this whole Faerie-thing may be real. That you are real. It’s unfathomable. How can such magic exist in this world?”
The Faerie King lifts his chin gently, “But dearest, are your feelings for me real? That is all I inquire to know.”
“Selfish as ever. But to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know,” the actor says, turning away, “How could I develop real feelings for someone I just met?”
‘After all, I’ve only planned to use your powers for a life of bliss…’, he adds in his thoughts, knowing that deep down, this may not be the full truth either.
“Please, dearest Shadow Milk Cookie… Do not disappoint me by admitting that all that occurred last night was merely an illusion created for me by the absinthe," Pure Vanilla Cookie pleads, his voice growing desperate all of a sudden. He turns the mortal’s head towards him once more, forcing him to face him.
Shadow Milk Cookie is stunned, not just by the intense boldness of the king, but more so by the way the corners of his mouth begin to quiver, how his eyes begin to shimmer with tears, and how his voice breaks with every word he utters.
The vulnerability is so apparent in his soft features, that even Shadow Milk Cookie, an actor moved not in the slightest by his very own roles, a Cookie so self-centered and unempathetic, cannot help but feel an ounce of guilt.
“It was not,” he begins, closing his eyes, “Yes, everything I did yesterday, I did of my own volition. Perhaps because I felt bad for myself. Perhaps because the life you promised me is far greater than that which I can live out in the realm of mortals. Perhaps because you promised me immortality. Or perhaps…”
He opens his mismatched ice-blue eyes, “Perhaps because you are not half-bad, and I found myself enjoying your company enough to kiss you. Enough to spend the night with you. Enough to stay by your side for the rest of today as well, and for tomorrow, and the day after. I have but one condition.”
The Faerie King’s face lights up at once upon hearing the confession that is not nearly as subtle as intended, and he nods, “Yes, do pose your condition, I will give you everything if only you promise to stay by my side.”
“I will go back to the mortal world by Sunday to hold my play. I want to spite her with my changed lines, for she doesn’t know how great my talent is compared to her mere writing. If you so wish, you may attend my play as a guest. After that, I will decide if I want to return with you to the Faerie Forest, or if I favor my mortal life as an actor, seeing the audience light up with every movement I make. I will decide then what is most important to me in life.”
Pure Vanilla Cookie listens intently with wide eyes. What the other is telling him is tough to swallow, but he does see the reason behind it. Of course, an actor of his caliber wouldn’t simply abandon his passions for a Cookie he’s just met. And naturally, he also cannot force his love on him. Sure, he could place him under a spell permanently to make him his, but that’s not what his gentle personality allows him to do. If the other shall be by his side, then only of his own volition.
“Alright, I accept your conditions. I will go and see your play disguised as a mortal guest, for the thing I value most in this world is your happiness. If you find greater pleasure in acting than in being with me, I’ll have to accept that. I love you, Shadow Milk Cookie, with all my heart…”, carefully, he places his hand upon the other’s bare chest. The blanket has long slid off his shoulders; too absent-minded was he to care for it.
When the slender fingers touch his heart, he shudders slightly, before relaxing again. A soft blush spreads across his face as the other gets closer. For a split second, it feels as though he has already made his decision; the Faerie King is too enchanting, too mesmerizing for him to possibly reject him. The idea seems so absurd; favoring acting over an eternal life of bliss.
Although he is tempted to utter the words ‘I love you’ in return, he merely cups the other’s cheek and pulls him into another kiss. It is too early for such confessions, and his mind is too conflicted to decide on his future yet.
Pure Vanilla Cookie smiles against his beloved’s lips. “I’m not sure if I can believe someone who says he hasn’t caught feelings mere moments before kissing me," he chuckles, disrupting the kiss for a short while.
Shadow Milk Cookie just rolls his eyes in response, and leans forward to seal his lips off with another kiss. The latter rests his hands on his bare hips as he deepens the kiss and lets himself fall back onto the pillows while pulling the actor on top of him. He does not intend to let him off the hook any sooner than the night prior…
…
“What an indecent foul…”, the actor sighs, as he closes the last button of his collar, watching the hickeys disappear behind it in the reflection on the pond’s surface. Carefully, he places the crown back onto his head and adjusts his coat. Although spending time with the Faerie King is exciting, he has to practice for his play a few more times at some point. Thus, the latter has promised to leave him alone for now.
When he tucks a strand of short hair back beneath the crown, he cannot stop the flush appearing on his face, as memories of how said strand had been loosened flood his head. Oh, how could he get so careless?
By now, it is already late in the morning. Pure Vanilla Cookie and his four faerie companions are preparing lunch, or so he’s been told. Though his stomach is already grumbling, he wants to at least finish practicing the last two most crucial acts before. So, he lifts his sword and begins where he has left off.
“Oh, Moth Cookie, you have to hear me out! He is amazing, he truly is! Ah, he makes me feel so many things, I don’t want to ever give him up!”, the Faerie King sighs, both hands clasped to his cheeks as he wiggles like a worm in the air.
“Master, I haven’t seen you this enamored in decades… Not since the day you met the Faerie Queen, and even that was different. Are you sure you’re alright?”, Moth Cookie retorts, her voice laced with concern for her king.
“Oh, it’s merely the fact that for the first time, I am not bound to my queen, and can finally make new experiences! Honestly, I’ve realized how much our relationship has been falling apart for all these years… Yes, with him, it is different!”
Cobweb Cookie, who is currently carrying five plates to the table, gags as she hears this. “Oh please, I’m sure that mortal’s already run away! You deserve someone better than him, anyway.”
“Oh Cobweb Cookie, my sweet child, you do not understand true love yet… Hush now, keep your mouth closed," the Faerie King whispers, and the wind carries a spell toward her, sewing her mouth shut. She tries to scream and rip at the seams, but it’s no use. Angrily, she storms off, and suddenly the amount of plates she’s brought does suffice.
Once the food is ready, Pure Vanilla Cookie makes his way over to the clearing where the other has chosen to practice. He hears his voice from afar, and decides to fly, in order to not make any noise, lest he’d interrupt the other.
Between the thick trunks of trees, he sees the prominent red of the actor’s coat. The latter is still fully immersed in the play, thus not noticing his presence. Mesmerized, he stays behind an exceptionally wide tree to watch the other for a while.
Shadow Milk Cookie lifts his sword with grace, the deadly blade pointed at a nearby puppet he has created out of sticks and grass found on the forest soil.
“Of all men else I have avoided thee: but get thee back; my soul is too much charged with blood of thine already…”, he utters, closing his eyes. Even such a simple action draws Pure Vanilla Cookie into the scene; the slight quivering of his eyelids, the shaking of his jaw as he sighs before reopening his eyes to face his opponent, the way he holds onto the handle, making the heavy sword look as though it weighs nothing…
As if in a trance, the Faerie King floats closer, leaving his hideout as he listens to the other’s enchanting voice.
“I will not yield, to kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, and to be baited with the rabble's curse," the actor continues, his voice low but steady. The sword in his hand sinks to the ground, contradicting his words. One cannot possibly fathom how he can seem so calm yet worked up at the same time.
Suddenly, his nape is met by hot breath. He turns around in one swift motion and brings his sharp blade towards the intruder’s throat. “Who goes there?”, he yells, breaking character. His voice is frantic, panicked, desperate, and his eyes are widened in fear. The reaction is genuine; even an actor of his caliber cannot overplay it.
“It’s just me!”, Pure Vanilla Cookie stammers, lifting his hands near his head to show he’s unarmed. His cheeks flush as the blade is pulled away from him; he wouldn’t mind keeping it there.
In that moment, Shadow Milk Cookie breathes a sigh of relief, before his legs give out beneath him, and he falls to his knees on the soft grass.
“Oh dearest, are you in pain? I didn’t mean to startle you!”, the other squeals, swiftly sitting down beside him.
Gently but assertively, as if the other belongs to him, he lifts his chin. His eyes look utterly empty, his panting is ragged and heavy, and the makeup beneath his eyes is crumbling, revealing even deeper eyebags than the king had previously noticed.
“I’m fine," he responds dryly, although his voice cracks, “I merely believed that what emerged from the shadows behind me wasn’t you, but… her.”
Overcome with guilt and concern, the Faerie King wraps his arms around the actor, who doesn’t return this action. Still, he silently appreciates it.
“You cannot imagine how sorry I am, my dear," cries the blond, “It will never happen again, I swear! Please, you have to believe me.”
Shadow Milk Cookie nods, still shivering.
The two remain like this for a while, until eventually, the latter’s stomach grumbles.
Pure Vanilla Cookie detaches himself from the other, smiling, while his cheeks glisten with the wetness of tears. “Oh, do not worry, my dear. Lunch is ready.” He cups his chin, placing a kiss onto his cheek.
Shadow Milk Cookie blushes, nodding. His eyes are focused on the other’s soft expression, his gentle movements, the warm embrace. “I didn’t think the selfish Faerie King would care…”, his whispering trails off as he’s scooped up gently, with his heavy coat acting like a protective blanket wrapped around him as the other begins walking toward the banquet.
Carefully, he reaches out to cup the king’s face, who in turn smiles down at him. His pupils widen in adoration.
In his arms he feels warm. Secure. At peace.
It’s the first time in his entire life that he has felt this way.
For once, he does not have to run away. Does not need to fight to ensure his own survival. Does not need to destroy others to earn respect.
For once, he can rest.
And he can do so in the arms of a wonderful man who loves him like no other has ever done before.
Broken pieces of the actor’s favorite mirror lay scattered across the table before him; in each shard, a blurry reflection of those same, eerie long-lashed eyes. He intends to scream, but no voice leaves his throat. Unable to lift his head or even move his eyes, he waits.
“You’re finally back!”
The sweet smell of roses fills his nostrils. A bouquet as red as jam his placed next to him – the only source of color in this gray room.
Suddenly, he can feel his breath cut off, and his head forcefully yanked upwards. In whatever is left of the mirror, he sees himself, empty eyed and with perfect makeup. Behind him stands the Cookie he has been so afraid of – Eternal Sugar Cookie.
The big hat and the pen accessory on her head give away her role as a playwright, while her bright pink bob clashes heavily with her light brown dress and greyish-blue coat.
“You didn’t really think that Faerie King could grant you eternal happiness, did you?”, she giggles, before her expression hardens at once, her sharp fingernails digging into his throat.
“Let me tell you something," she continues, voice laced with malice, “Faerie Magic is nothing compared to that of a witch. He can’t save you anymore, not here, not on my stage. Don’t even think about escaping. You know what happens to those most unfortunate souls who don’t perfectly act out my play!”
The witch pulls his head around so violently, it feels as though his neck is about to snap. Beside him, in the tiny dressing room, is a mountain of skulls. Their sockets are directed at him, as if he was to blame for this. He wants to scream, but her magic has engulfed his body whole – he is nothing but a mere puppet, dancing to her strings.
“Now go, and tell him what is most important to you," she sings, and her breath is laced with a toxin that makes his consciousness drift away.
Shadow Milk Cookie's eyes shoot open at once, and his pupils dart around the night sky aimlessly. His breathing hitches as he looks around in despair.
He’s on his back, and on his chest rests the head of the Faerie King, whose warm breath meets his bare dough in regular intervals.
He gasps for air, but he does not cause a scene. He knows that if he starts crying, he will be punished.
Thus, he lay there, drenched in sweat, trying to process it all while looking for comfort in the stars.
Suddenly, he can feel the blond stirring slightly. He moves his arm around his waist, thus deepening the hug. Despite being asleep, he knows just what the actor needs, and how he can comfort him. Because even such a simple action warms his heart, and makes his eyes water for the first time in who knows how long. He covers his mouth so as to not let out any sobs – the last thing he wants is for the king to wake up just because he had a little nightmare. That would be pathetic.
He closes his eyes, and runs his fingers through the blond’s smooth hair. A small smile creeps up the latter’s face, and a little noise akin to purring escapes his lips. He must not be in deep slumber.
“’Nilla?”, the actor whispers quietly. Another stir. What time is it, anyway?
Upon stealing another glance at the sky, he can see a few, pale golden rays. It would not be so bad if he woke the king at this time of day…
“’Nills? Are you awake?”
Slowly, the blond lifts his head somewhat, and groggily opens his eyes. “Mmh? It’s still so early, my love… Is something the matter?”, he yawns.
Shadow Milk Cookie smiles, and reaches out gently to stroke the other’s pointy ears. A content sigh escapes his lips, and he turns his head to encourage the actor to keep going. He even closes his eyes in satisfaction.
“Nothing’s the matter, Vanilla… I just had a bad dream, is all," the blue-hued Cookie admits, his fingers moving over the other’s neck to caress his chin.
“You can talk to me about it, honey," Pure Vanilla Cookie purrs, leaning into the touch more than the other expected.
“That’s what you think. But once I let myself be vulnerable in the presence of another Cookie, I get hurt. That’s how it’s always been for me. As an almighty Faerie King, you will never understand…”, he turns away, and lets his hand sink to the ground.
Disappointed at no longer being touched, the king tilts his head, “I do understand what it’s like, and I’m not almighty. I’ve had many disputes with my queen, and she’s definitely stronger than me. Honestly, I’m lucky she hasn’t poisoned me yet.”
He pauses, chuckling.
“Still, I don’t regret the intimate moments I’ve shared with her, nor the secrets I entrusted her with, or the moments I cried in her arms. That is all apart of me. I’m sure that as a mortal, your struggles are far greater than mine, but I can still understand you.”
At this point, Shadow Milk Cookie is furiously blinking, trying to somehow avoid the tears from forming in his eyes.
“And besides…”, the king continues, as his tongue trails over the other’s neck, “I’ve seen you inside and out. I can’t imagine you being any more vulnerable than you’ve already been with me.”
He licks the same spot twice, before letting his lips touch it, and gently beginning to suck. Shadow Milk Cookie gasps. That’s his absolute sweet spot!
“You know me better… than I’d like to… admit…”, he stammers in between huffs.
The king smiles against the now purple spot, licks it one last time, and finally pulls away.
“Told you," he chuckles. “Now, what has been plaguing your mind? Or must I enchant you with a serum of truth?”
“I don’t even want to know what that is," Shadow Milk Cookie squeals, “Anyway… To put it simply, I had a dream in which my playwright kidnapped me just like you did, and put pressure on me to focus on my play instead of you. Honestly… It might have been a vision. She’s a witch, and thus possesses magical abilities, just like you do…”
The king’s eyes darken. “A witch, you say?” Upon receiving a nod in response, he continues, “I thought witches don’t exist anymore. They were not only at war with us faeries, but with Cookiekind, too. She would have to be extremely well adapted… Whatever. You don’t need to be afraid of her. Trust me, I’ve dealt with witches before.”
He overplays his anger with a chuckle, and touches the other’s nose with his. “Anyway, it is today that you said we should leave for your play, right?”
“Yes. My play is tomorrow evening, but it’s always great to be there early. I’ll bring you to my home. I know you don’t stand out as a faerie because you don’t have wings, but your lack of knowledge regarding the mortal world might concern others. So please, do not converse with anyone while we’re in town, got it? Lest they’d mistake you as a witch and burn you at the stake.”
“Of course, of course. As long as I can stay by your side, I am content. I love you." He places a brief kiss onto the actor’s lips, who rolls his eyes in response.
‘I love you too…’, he thinks, but does not dare speak these words aloud.