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Morning slowly rises over the Dark Cacao Kingdom. With it comes the melting of the first winter frost. Strokes of pink and white bring life to the dull, sturdy wooden walls that face Eastward. The Dark Cacaoan people rise with the light, hastily readying themselves for the day ahead.
Children grumble and groan as their parents force on thick winter coats and gloves. Imported creme sheep wool from the Vanilla Kingdom lines the insides of the dark fabric, making for a must-have garment when the biting cold approaches. Once bags are packed and the clinging remnants of sleep are beaten off with a stick, quick goodbyes are given, and the school day starts.
Within the castle, the day starts a bit slower. Dawn weasels its way through the blinds and into the king's chambers, where two bodies are intertwined and very much asleep. Soft snoring fills the absence of sound, floating around in the still air. The scene is something straight out of an old storybook. Husband and wife, sound asleep as the kingdom wakes just before them. It's almost perfect, almost serene... save for one thing.
It is positively frigid.
Dark Cacao wakes with a start, curling further under the thickly woven duvet. He makes sure to pull the covers over both him and the woman beside him, sheathing the two cookies in a cocoon of deep purple. A brief moment passes as he tries to rest again, only to realise that sleep will elude him this morning. Plum eyes snake up to the pale face in front of him, admiring the way the light catches on its alabaster skin.
Ivory white eyelashes cast long, sullen shadows across Mystic Flour cookie's cheeks, poking like daggers across the doughy flesh. Powdered sugar freckles dust her skin, running down her neck and shoulders, and trailing the line of her vertebrae. Silk covers her body, the off-white blending seamlessly with her milky pallour, making it nearly impossible to tell where nightgown stopped and Mystic Flour began.
Battle-worn hands cup the cheek not smushed into oblivion on a pillow, caressing it as he would a sleeping cat. Dark Cacao's thumb presses lightly against her features, admiring the way it gives to the slightest pressure like soft fabric. A dull ache forms deep within his chest, gracing past his ribs and nestling itself into his soul. How long has he been wasting his immortal life in solitude when this is what he could have had the whole time?
Movement jostles Dark Cacao out of his... unsavoury thoughts. Grey eyes flutter open, squinting and crinkling at the harsh light of dawn. Groaning softly, Mystic Flour stirs awake and sits up, shivering as cold nips at her skin. "Good morning." She mutters. It's simple. Sweet. Sunshine turns silken white hair gold, rippling around her like a halo.
"Good morning." He replies. It's become a sort of game to see how long they both can go without being sickly to eachother. Feigned indifference laces each word, and silence crackles between them. It only takes a moment of hesitant eye contact for the pair to burst into soft giggles. Dark Cacao nudges himself closer to her, pressing his lips to her doughy cheek. "Witches, you're freezing." A scarred palm finds its way to her face once more, pressing itself to her forehead. "Are you alright? I can ask whoever's near to fetch some heated quilts-"
Mystic Flour's hand raises to silence him, eyes distantly fixed on the window a few paces in front of her. "It's... Why is it snowing?" Dark cacao whips his head around to face the glass, gasping softly as he sees bits of frost cling to the barren trees. He leans closer to her as reassurance. "It must be snowing early this year. It's nothing to worry about, winter always tends to snap its teeth at us viciously when we're this far North."
The air thickens around them. Mystic Flour seems distressed, to say the least. But nonetheless, she straightens her back and stands up, padding softly over to her side of the closet.
Shaking, Mystic Flour's hands reach for her wire-rimmed glasses. Her mind flashes back to the specks of white that cover the hard-packed dirt, trampled by years worth of running soldiers. Schoolchildren's breaths fogging the frigid air. How the snow looks so eerily like... like the flour that caused the "Pale Ailment." Her flour. Her fault. "I'm going to make us some tea. What kind do you want?" She mutters. Quickly, Dark Cacao rises to his feet, walking over to where she stands.
As a quiet show of love, he places his thick, woolen coat over her shoulders, making sure to tuck her arms into its sleeves. His lips lean down to meet her forehead, pressing a kiss right in the middle. "Hmm.." He hums softly to himself. "Ginseng would be nice. If we don't have any left, earl grey will do." And so, she leaves in a woolen coat and nightgown.
Worry permeates Dark Cacao's being. It isn't like her to be so reserved. Yes, of course she has moments where she hides herself, but those are to strangers, not to him! Even when they had met and soon fought in Beast-Yeast, she had just maniplulated him, not shut down.
Slowly, he readies himself. Like his citizens, he has a strict routine. Dress. Teeth. Eat. Stretch. Out the door. Monotonous as it is, Dark Cacao finds it somewhat enjoyable. Mundane things have always excited him. The little things in life have always been the most important to him, so it's what he focuses on most. Mystic flour's glassy eyes, unfocused and gazing at the thin blanket of white draped on the kingdom. Her sudden rush to excuse herself.
She's never seemed... afraid of the cold, though. She knows what living in the Dark Cacao Kingdom entails, even if she hasn't witnessed the cruel winters herself. Perplexed, and quite worried, Dark Cacao Cookie makes his way out of the royal chambers and into the great hall.
Ambient noise fills the expansive halls, bouncing off the reinforced tiling and wood. Servants and members of court roam with light-tipped steps and curt, silent nods. Reclusive as he may be, Dark Cacao is very fond of his loyalists. Today, not so much. Tightly, he smiles at Swift Bark Cookie as she walks by, unknowingly quickening his pace. Even after the admittedly few months of living within the castle walls, Mystic Flour Cookie never seemed to wander. She was typically seen in their shared chambers or enjoying herself in the royal gardens. Never had she gone out farther than the Black Citadel for fear of angered subjects.
Her direct cause of the Pale Ailment had always been a sticking point for the two. It hadn't driven a wedge between them, but it was certainly a touchy subject for the newlywed queen. Although the affected Cacaoans had been healed long ago, it left a lasting impact in her. Harbouring the ability to lead people to apathy, and their subsequent demises made her feel godly. It made her feel like she could best the people who tore her from her cocoon and demanded a balm for their aching greed. She was the one to lead cookiekind to true enlightenment, after all. When she was brought the to Cacao Kingdom in chains, she was led like a dog on a leash to the destruction she caused. Dying fathers and mothers coughing plumes of flour into the air and gasping for breath. Young warriors missing limbs, their wounded dough a sickly off-white. Children begging for their parents to wake up.
It sickened her.
In search of awakening all of Crispia and beyond, she had only commited a genocide in the process. "A monster." Cookies whispered. "A fallen goddess lives at the top of that pagoda, her benevolence soured by betrayal. If you listen close enough, you can hear her seethe." They were right, of course. Not about the myths or tales of an evil deity, but about her being a monster. Mystic Flour Cookie was and is a genocidal maniac, detached and unconcerned with consequence. Deserving of the king's blade. Had she ever escaped the grasp of those insatiate hands, only seeking a grant to their shallow wishes? Or had she become as depthless?
Pysche in the gutter, she finds herself standing barefoot outside, the frost grounding her subconscious. Taking a deep breath, she makes her way back to the insulated halls. Blindly, she wanders the halls, trying to find a path back to the kitchen as to not seem suspicious. After all, she still had tea to brew. After all, she still had half a mind to make herself seem busy.
"Love!" A vague, gruff voice calls out to her. Dark Cacao hurries toward Mystic Flour, strong arms grasping her like a vice. Her body crumples into him, going dead weight. Her long hanfu creases as her knees buckle and hit the solid wood with a thud. Aimless, her eyes stare through him. She's a shell of herself, paralysed with fear.
Frantic hands grasp at her, desperately fighting against their shared centre of gravity. Dark Cacao's back slams hard into the wooden wall behind him, sending the pair crashing into the floor. He shields Mystic's body with his own as the world tilts on its axis. Long ivory lashes flutter shut, her body giving in to her fear.
He struggles to his feet, thousands of years of battle catching up to him and his aching muscles. Carrying her is no issue, Dark Cacao Cookie has done so countless times before, but the terror coursing through him makes his strength dim significantly. "You fool." He mutters, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple "Don't leave me."
Hours pass in a slow blur, much to Dark Cacao's dismay. He sits in their chambers with Mystic Flour's unconscious form tucked neatly into bed. Spells like this weren't uncommon for the queen. She had been baked with... hinderances that no wish could ever fix. It was etched into her dough by the witches. On many more than one occasion, she had complained of fatigue and dizziness, just to collapse soon after. However, she would rouse within minutes. It was now dinnertime, and she was stubbornly quiet. He remains a steadfast presence by her bedside, waiting for any sign of lucidity.
Like a loyal dog, Dark Cacao Cookie leans his head on the silk mat that his wife rests on, taking her slender hand in his own. Despair crashes down on him like a wave. What had caused Mystic Flour such distress? Mentally retracing his steps, he comes to a near-certain conclusion. A blizzard had swept over the kingdom, leaving everything in a thick fog of white. It must have reminded her of the Pale Ailment, leaving her trapped in a silent spiral.
A knock at the door makes him violently jolt, leaving his ornate hanbok ruffled. "Who is it?" He inquires, voice trembling uncharacteristically. "Caramel Arrow Cookie." The familliar voice responds. a brief moment of hesitation spans the distance between the loyalist and her king. "The Crème Republic has sent a letter requesting an audience tomorrow morning in regard to the ongoing scuffle between them and Parfeadia. Apparently, and I quote, "This is urgent for no other reason than the fact that your king is quite intimidating, and will be of great service getting Parfaedia off our backs. Warm regards, Clotted Cream Cookie, Consul of the Crème Republic." Her voice betrays her disdain for the frilly consul, a simultaneous eyeroll being shared by the Cacaoans.
"Caramel Arrow Cookie?"
"Yes, my king?"
"May you please fetch a healer? And possibly a mage? Urgently? Mystic Flour has not yet awoken from one of her spells. And please, do cancel my audience."
Another brief moment of quiet stretches between the two, before footsteps hurry away. Dark Cacao turns his head to face the queen's still form, worry carved into his stone features. As if on cue, she stirs. The monarch practically pounces at her, kissing her forehead to gauge her temperature. She feels freshly baked, which is much warmer than normal. "You're awake..." He mumbles, moving his hand to cup her round cheek. "I found you in the hallway, shivering. You looked mortified. Do you remember anything...?"
He silently lies by omission, leaving out the fact that she collapsed. Mauve eyes soften as he watches Mystic slowly regain consciousness. Sleepy pupils dilate when they reach him, and a smile graces her unknowing lips. Sparing a glance at the window, her smile falls and her mouth purses unto a strained frown. Confusion and fear settle into her chest, leaving her shrinking back. "Have i caused this...?" She tentatively asks. Her husband is quick to assure her and rid her of worry. "No, no, of course not. This is just snow." Tucking a long white strand of hair back with one hand, he uses the other to gently lay Mystic Flour back down.
"You fainted soon after I found you." He feebly admits, folding under the pressure. "It's been a few hours, so I summoned a few professionals to keep you under watch for now. I'm unsure if its an issue with your soul jam or... something else. I've been waiting to ask you, dearest." Dark Cacao kisses her knuckles softly in apology, eyes closing in reverence.
With a heaving sigh, Mystic Flour Cookie buckles under the weight of her past. "I am a demon, Dark Cacao Cookie." She addresses him stiffly, hands toying with her silky hanfu. "I do not understand why you hold such sympathy for someone like me. I do not undertsand why you didn't crumble me with your precious sword." Her soft voice cracks, struggling around the lump in her throat. "I will never understand what you see in something so unholy as I. All is futile, after all. Spend your limited time someplace else." Instead of her words coming out as a cruel bite, She just breaks down into tears. The strangling grip of resignation threatens to asphyxiate her.
All she wants is to give up.
Noiselessly, Dark Cacao wraps his arms around her in what could only be described as a bear hug. "I love you for a reason, my light. You have walked over hot coals and emerged even more lovable on the other side. You are the strongest woman i know, darling. Your sins don't define you." Sobbing, Mystic Flour buries her face in the king's chest. For a moment, the world shrinks down to their intertwined forms. Afraid that the visitors will send her into an unwanted spiral, he reluctantly parts from his queen and places an innocent kiss on her neck. "I will be right back. Are you okay?" The words, "Will you be safe on your own?" remain unspoken but mutually understood. She nods and he departs from their shared chambers, searching for his First Watcher.
Dark Cacao Cookie finds the archer in the main hall, conversing quietly with whichever healers were on staff. The two head maids nearby bow their heads when they see the king, drawing Caramel Arrow Cookie's attention away from her chat. Chocolate pudding eyes meet plum wine, recognising tired relief written deep inside. "Is everything okay, my king? How is Her Majesty's condition?" A soft smile tugs at his lips, making the stiff woman deflate. "Thank the Ovens above." Dark Cacao gives her a moment of joy before speaking. "Everything is under control, and she's safe in bed. It's late, I'm going to retrieve some dinner and retire for the night. Goodnight, Caramel Arrow."
A fond smirk lights up her features. "Goodnight, Your Majesty."
Pivoting on his feet, the king strides through the hallways and into the grand dining room. A few stragglers are planted firmly in their seats, entrenched in excited conversation. Purple flames illuminate the large space, giving the room a calm ambiance. Echoing softly, Dark Cacao's footsteps blend in with the chatter, leaving him undetected. Two servings of pork bao and kimchi rest next to eachother on the pickup counter, waiting to be served and eaten.
Soundless, he stalks up the steps leading to the royal chambers, carrying two trays of hot food. With his foot, he nudges the sliding door open. "Dear...? Are you awake?" He tries. Weakly, the bundle of blankets on the mat groans "It's cold..."
Within a minute, they're eating together in comfortable silence, sharing bits of food.
Quiet love and quiet time.
It's not a lot, just forever.