Archive of Our Own

The silence echoes in the Spire.

Now matter how long he walks the same halls, Pure Vanilla Cookie will never get used to the terrible sense of time accompanying this space.

He doesn't know how long he's been here. He doesn't know how long he'd been walking along. Not like it really matters.

Ever since he gave up on fighting for his friends, ever since he stopped caring about his so far away kingdom, it felt like a part of him has died. Something he'll never get back. Yet.. instead of pondering about his own failure, all that he had been doing is letting this strange apathy consume him.

Well, it isn't anything that bothers him. Nothing ever does anymore.

As he opens the door to his assigned room, the familiar sight of his disheveled space greets him, making him let out a big sigh as he contemplates his competence.

The first thing he notices is the pile up of plates on the ground, filled with now rotten blue star jellies. The sight stirred something in him, but was quickly surpressed by the oppressive atmosphere of dread. He can't explain, but it seemed like it was watching him.

They had been brought to him by Shadow Milks loyal companions, being either Black Sapphire or Candy Apple. All Black Sapphire ever did was bring them, look around his room in disappointment and terribly veiled disgust and leave without a word.

Pure Vanilla never reacts, only sinking deeper and deeper into his cold robes.

Candy Apple however, was always far more vocal with her demands. "I just don't get it", she complains, holding the plate in her small arms as she studies him with her gaze. "What could Master ever see in you worth keeping around?! You're just a big sad slop! You make me mad! AHH!!" 

She proceeds to throw the plate at him, before stomping away, muttering something about how Shadow milk should keep his attention to things worthwhile.

He often wonders the same. What's the point of keeping him here anymore? Is it just a sick, twisted desire to see him wallow in his own fate? 

It doesn't matter, does it?

Pure Vanilla decides to pick up the plates, one by one, not caring how the rotten jelly seems to grow eyes.

Nothing in the Spire ever made sense.

As he's begrudgingly picking them up, one by one, he bumps into something, causing him to drop one of the plates. He lowers his gaze in disinterest, but still acknowledging the offending piece of furniture.

A vanillan table.

What a joke. 

His room is full of such fleeting memories, all with the Vanillan livery to remind him of home. To remind him of his failures. 

He likes to ignore them. Shadow Milk probably did this to get a rise out of him.

"Your Majesty! There you are!" 

He snaps his head back.

Black Raisin cookie..?

Pure Vanilla Cookie freezes.

Black Raisin Cookie stands before him, her eyes wide with desperation, her hands gripping the edges of her ragged cloak. She is out of breath, like she has run a great distance.

But that’s impossible.

She is not here. She cannot be here.

And yet, her presence is undeniable. Her voice, harsh, filled with urgency, cuts through the suffocating haze of his mind.

“Your Majesty! There you are! I have been searching everywhere for you!”

His lips part, but no words come out. Something about her face unsettles him. It is… wrong. Not her usual weary determination, but something more fragile, something fearful.

“Everyone is waiting for you,” she continues, taking a step closer. “We need you. The kingdom-"

The room warps.

For the briefest moment, the scent of scorched earth fills his nostrils. He sees flashes of a ruined village, broken homes swallowed by the abyss, the shadows creeping closer, closer, up his legs-

No.

He closes his eyes. Takes a breath. The vision flickers out, like a candle in the wind.

When he opens them again, Black Raisin Cookie is gone.

In her place, standing in the same spot, is someone else.

Clover Cookie smiles at him, gentle and knowing.

“Your Majesty,” he says, his voice like the whisper of a familiar song. He puts his instrument down and walks towards him. “Have you forgotten?”

Pure Vanilla Cookie takes a step back. His hands tremble at his sides. He does not remember moving, but now his staff is in his grip, golden light flickering weakly from its surface.

Clover does not move. He simply watches, his soft smile never wavering. But there is something in his eyes- something wrong.

“You were supposed to come back,” Clover murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “You were supposed to help us.”

"No, I- You don't understand-" He grips his head in frustration, looking down on the ground as he falls to his knees.

The room twists again.

A new presence steps forward, their voice smooth, dripping with amusement.

Pure Vanilla Cookie lifts his head slowly.

Shadow Milk Cookie smirks at him from across the room, watching with barely concealed delight.

"Look at you," he taunts, stepping closer, boots clicking against the floor. "Falling apart at the seams, over memories."

He crouches, tilting his head mockingly. "What a fragile little thing you are. No wonder your kingdom burned."

Pure Vanilla Cookie does not respond. He is too tired.

Too tired to argue. Too tired to fight.

Shadow Milk Cookie clicks his tongue, reaching out, and for some reason, Pure Vanilla Cookie does not stop him as fingers curl around his head, grabbing his hair and forcing his gaze up.

“You were never meant for this,” Shadow Milk muses, studying him with something like curiosity. “A king who lets himself rot in a cage? How pathetic. And I thought I was the clown.”

Pure Vanilla Cookie swallows, his throat dry.

Shadow Milk leans in, his smirk widening.

"Nobody even remembers you anymore, you no longer serve a purpose to anyone."

He grabs his head a little harder, causing a few tears to slip from Pure Vanilla Cookies empty grimace.

“Let me show you something fun.” 

Shadow Milk Cookie giggles in delight, before punching him square in his Soul Jam.

His breath hitches as his Soul Jam burns in retaliation. The world tilts.

This time, he is surrounded.

The air is thick with the scent of flowers, lilies and different coloured flowers curling around his staff, thorned vines creeping up his arms. The floor beneath him shifts, white marble cracking, turning to the broken cobblestones of his lost kingdom.

He stares. Although, it seems like a whole lot of other things are staring at him too.

Yet the Truthless Recluse finds himself uncaring. 

It's all but a fleeting memory.

Something laughs hysterically on his shoulder, as if to mock him for his weakness, before he noticed something familiar.

He hears their voices before he sees them.

His friends. If they're even that anymore.

Hollyberry Cookie. Her back is turned away. “You abandoned us.”

Dark Cacao Cookie. He looks him up and down in disgust. “You let weakness consume you.”

Golden Cheese Cookie. She throws her spear at him. He dodged lazily. “You were never fit to rule.”

White Lily Cookie.

He meets her gaze.

…White Lily does not say anything. She only stares, sadness pooling in her eyes.

He breathes faster and faster-

Pure Vanilla Cookie’s breath is ragged. His grip on his staff tightens as the flowers continue to climb, wrapping around his fingers, pulling him down, down, down—

What was he doing here?

“Pathetic.”

The illusions shatter.

The flowers wither. The air turns sharp and cold.

And then-

Everything disappears.