Chapter Text
Pure Vanilla Cookie was quite staggered to wake up and see how much everything had changed. To find his kingdom, destroyed and deserted. The once populous and peaceful place, now a ghost town. His own throne, which once stood at the heart of the kingdom as a symbol of the hopes and dreams of the citizens, that Pure Vanilla Cookie had proudly sat upon, now collecting dust.
The Vanilla Kingdom had always been quiet. But now, there was a different ambience to it now. Before, the kingdom had a peaceful silence, the kind that cleared his mind, made him feel at home. Now, it was deafening, giving one the feeling of something lost.
Admittedly, the kingdom still has subjects. The citizens of the Black Raisin Village immigrated to the Vanilla Kingdom, and the only survivor of the attack during the Dark Flour War that Pure Vanilla knows of is Strawberry Crepe Cookie, but they seem rather reluctant to form a bond with Pure Vanilla despite his many attempts to reach out to them. While he is grateful for their presence, Pure Vanilla wonders if there were any other survivors. What exactly had transpired while he was trapped in the void? Surely there was no way they were all truly gone, right? All of the subjects he held so dear, his loyal knights, the sages and wizards who had resided in the westernmost tower of the castle, everyone? Wiped out?
To think that this all occurred because of his absence, because of his failure was almost too much to bear. He wasn't worthy of his crown anymore, if he ever was at all.
But there is something that strikes him as odd. He often finds himself thinking back to that child he had met not too long after waking up, Custard Cookie III. He had claimed to be a descendant of the kingdom. Not only that, but the boy seemed so proud of his Vanillan heritage, so proud to be his heir. He was a bit too eager to take on the responsibility of ruling a kingdom at such a young age, but Pure Vanilla can't help but be charmed by his enthusiasm.
Everything around him had been so overwhelming when he woke up that there hadn't been time to question it, but now, he can’t help but be curious about it. To think that there was still a living descendant of the kingdom out there, after everything, is so hopeful it was almost overwhelming.
He doesn't remember ever meeting Custard III before The Dark Flour War, so he figures he had to have been born some time while he was trapped in the void. And if the boy's words are to be believed…
The child seemed rather naive, so perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps he just wished he was a descendant of a king. But Pure Vanilla can't dismiss the possibility. After all, isn't he the one who was so desperately hoping to find some living reminisce of the past, of any connection to the fallen kingdom?
So he decides that the next time he sees Custard, he'll strike up a conversation about it. And when he does see him again, the boy is holding his hand as the two walk through one of the kingdom's towns. The kingdom is still being rebuilt, so not everything is as it used to be. But the golden rays of the sun shine brightly upon them, the blueberry birds still chirp, and Custard’s hand feels so warm in Pure Vanilla's. The child rambles about many different things- about his friends, about his family, and of course, about being king.
So it's then that Pure Vanilla decides is the right time to pop the question. He clears his throat before speaking.
“Custard Cookie III?” he asks softly. The child turns to him curiously.
“Yes?”
Pure Vanilla Cookie opens his eyes and his staff closes its own. “When you say you are a descendant of the Vanilla Kingdom, do you mean to say that you are a descendant of mine?”
“That's right!” The child perks up, as if the thought of being related to Pure Vanilla was some sort of blessing, something to boast about. Pure Vanilla feels his face heat up a bit.
“Hm. I see.” So the boy was related to him… Supposedly. Pure Vanilla hums in thought.
“What? Don't believe me?” Custard stops walking as he looks up at the king, who frowns a bit at his words.
“I wouldn't say that. I was simply curious. I'm not quite sure how we're even related.”
Custard thinks about that for a moment. “Um, I can't really remember. My great, great… something!”
Ah. So they're likely only distant family. Pure Vanilla expected as much. After all, he doesn't remember ever having a child. Still, distant family is still family, and a collateral descendant is still a descendant of the kingdom.
Pure Vanilla chuckles a bit. “Well, I suppose the technicalities don't quite matter,” he says with a smile. “I am honored to be related to such a noble king!”
“I could say the same to you! Your reign as king… Oh, I wanna be just like you!”
Pure Vanilla's eyebrows raise at that. He swore he felt his heart ache at that for some reason. “Just like me?” he repeats, his voice hesitant and weak, as if on the verge of shattering.
“That's right!” The boy seems as enthusiastic as ever, contrasting starkly with Pure Vanilla's confused energy. “I've seen how hard you work! I can't wait to be a great king of the Vanilla Kingdom just like you!”
Pure Vanilla is silent. His gaze falls to the ground. A great king?
“Pure Vanilla Cookie?” Custard's confused and concerned voice derails his train of thought, bringing him back to reality. “What's wrong?”
Pure Vanilla Cookie blinks a few times, eyes landing on the child before him again. He feels his chest tighten even further at the boy's worried expression. He hadn't meant to damper the mood.
“Ah, nothing, my boy,” he says, forcing a smile. “I was just thinking. Say, how about I show you around the castle?” After all, he hadn't gotten the chance to give Custard a proper tour, since the last time he was there, the circumstances were less than favorable.
And of course, Custard perks up real fast at that. “That sounds wonderful! Oh, maybe you could tell me stories about your reign as king! Please, please?”
Pure Vanilla's forced smile becomes a bit more genuine at that. “Ahaha! I'd love to.”
Following that day, the two begin to talk more. Custard often visits the castle- he's always welcome, after all. As expected, Custard asks quite a lot of questions about being king. Pure Vanilla happily answers all of them to the best of his abilities.
Weeks later, the two are sitting in the castle garden, having a little tea party to themselves as Custard once again bombards him with his many, many questions. But Pure Vanilla doesn't mind at all, really. The boy's enthusiasm is contagious. How could he turn him down?
“Wow,” Custard mumbles, looking down at his tea cup with a troubled expression. “From the way you're describing it, being a king sounds like a lot of hard work.”
“That's right,” Pure Vanilla replies with a nod as he places his own cup down. “It takes a lot of dedication and patience. But it is all worth it to see your kingdom prosper, to see your subjects happy and safe.”
Custard just peers down at the ground and kicks his little feet, seeming to be in deep thought. Pure Vanilla frowns at the sight and folds his hands.
“Custard Cookie III? Is something troubling you?” Pure Vanilla's voice is calm and soft, an attempt to ease the pain of whatever is bothering the boy. He watches as the child perks up, trying to maintain his composure.
“Oh, it just sounds like a lot of pressure. Having to make everyone happy.”
Pure Vanilla nods again. "It's the responsibility of a king, I'm afraid.”
Custard lifts his chin. “Well, I still want to be king!”
“Really?” Pure Vanilla says with a tilt of his head.
“Yes! I told you! I want to be a great king just like you!”
Ah. There it is again. More undeserved praise. But who was he to tell Custard he was wrong to look up to him? How could he look at that child's excited face, see the fire in his eyes, and tell him that his role model was such a sad excuse for a king? He can't imagine Custard's disappointment if he knew about his mistakes, if he knew that the so-called great king he aspired to be like was responsible for the fall of his own kingdom. So perhaps it's best if he doesn't. Perhaps it's best if he entertains this.
So despite the way his chest tightens, Pure Vanilla smiles, lets out a little sigh, and says, “Well, I'm sure you'd make a fine king, little one.”
And that he did mean.
That night, Pure Vanilla and Custard stand on one of the castle's balconies, watching the sun set over the horizon. Custard is leaning against the railing with a peaceful smile as he peers up at the purple sky. Pure Vanilla wants to savor the moment of tranquility between them, but he figures it's probably drawing closer to the boy's bedtime.
“Custard Cookie III?” Pure Vanilla says softly as he approaches the child. “As much as I enjoy your company, isn't it about time you head back home?”
Custard turns his head to look up at the king with big eyes. “Hm? Back home?”
“Yes,” Pure Vanilla continues, “it's starting to get quite late. It's about time for growing kings like you to get their rest.”
A whine emits from the child as he steps closer to Pure Vanilla, a little pout on his face. “Aw, but I wanted to stay here with you!”
Pure Vanilla can't help but chuckle at that response. He reaches down to pat the boy's head. “Oh, Custard. That's very sweet, but we can meet again tomorrow! Besides, I'm sure your parents will be worried if you don't return home soon.”
“It's okay! I don't have legal guardians!”
Wait. What?
Pure Vanilla holds back a shiver at that. He clutches his staff tightly as his eyes cast to the ground. Custard's voice as he says that is far too chipper, far too casual. When he speaks again, his voice trembles a bit.
“You don't? Little one, you mean to tell me you live alone?”
“Huh? Well yes! But it's okay. A king can take care of himself!”
Pure Vanilla's breath hitches as his fears are confirmed. He hates to admit that this makes sense. After all, he'd never actually seen the boy's parents. Had they been victims of the war?
He hesitates before asking the dreaded question. He hates to ask. He's afraid of the answer. But he has to. So, after a tense pause, it comes. “Custard, what happened to your parents?”
Only then does Custard's mood really seem damper. He goes quiet and peers down at the floor. Pure Vanilla feels a pang of guilt for even asking, but he can't help but continue. “Custard. Are your parents…?”
“They went missing,” Custard finally says, still looking at the ground. “At least my dad did. I don't have a mom, and my dad… I haven't seen my dad in forever.”
Ah. That was still worrying, of course. But ‘missing’ means there's a chance that he's still alive… Right? Pure Vanilla takes a deep breath. “And just how long is ‘forever’?”
“Years,” is Custard's dejected answer.
Years. This child has been without a proper guardian for years. Pure Vanilla's breathing stutters for a moment, as he tries to find the right words. When the words do find him, they come in a quiet whisper.
“Custard, sweetie. A child should never live alone.”
Custard doesn't respond. Doesn't even look Pure Vanilla in the eye. Pure Vanilla would almost think the boy was ashamed of himself if he didn't know any better. The king shakes his head before speaking again.
“This just won't do. I won't have this.” He takes the boy's hand and marches back into the castle with newfound determination.
“Huh? Where are we going?” Custard looks up in confusion, but doesn't resist, following Pure Vanilla down the castle's halls.
“I'm going to arrange a search party for your father- an investigation.” Pure Vanilla continues looking ahead as he keeps walking. “For now, you will stay with me. I will take care of you.”
“You'd do that for me?”
That makes Pure Vanilla stop in his tracks. He turns to Custard. The boy is looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes. Pure Vanilla feels a strange mix of sadness and adoration wash over him, and an overall desire to protect overcomes him as he looks down at this precious, precious child.
He kneels down before the boy, his voice soft as he speaks. “Custard… Of course I would. You deserve a guardian. Every child does.”
Pure Vanilla could swear that he spots tears in Custard's eyes, but he isn't given much time to process it before Custard quickly wraps his arms around him. The force of the hug is almost enough to knock them both down, but Pure Vanilla quickly returns it without even thinking.
“Thank you,” Custard murmurs into Pure Vanilla's shoulder. “Thank you so much.”
Pure Vanilla buries his face in the boy's hair. “You're welcome. You are so welcome.”
They stay like that for a moment, each basking in the presence of the other, before Pure Vanilla sniffs and scoops Custard up, holding him close. He pats his back. “Come, little one. Let's get you to bed.”
When the time comes to tuck Custard in, he's already struggling to keep his eyes open. Pure Vanilla had allowed him to stay in one of the many guest bedrooms of the castle, which he figures will one day be his room once he properly settles in. The king places the child in the bed, tucking the blankets up to his chin. He watches as Custard shifts to get himself comfortable before smiling sweetly and sitting down on the edge of the bed, reaching down to place a hand on his head. “Sleep tight, my boy,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “I will be in just the other room.”
With that, he begins to stand back up, but before he does, Custard's voice stops him. “Wait, before you go,” he says softly, suddenly sitting up in bed.
“Hm?” Pure Vanilla sits back down instantly, looking down at Custard as he patiently waits for him to continue.
“I know we're only distant family, but I feel really close to you. And it feels good to have a grown up taking care of me.”
Pure Vanilla feels his heart melt as the words. He tenderly places his hand on top of Custard's as he responds. “Of course. That's what family is for.” He pauses for a moment. His hand lingers for a little longer than necessary as he looks down at the child, taking in his sleepy, innocent expression before speaking again. “Now rest, little one. Your kingdom awaits you tomorrow.”
Custard gives him a tired yet sincere little smile as he closes his eyes. “Goodnight. I love you.”
“I love you too, dear boy.”
That night, Pure Vanilla finds himself feeling something he can't quite identify. A sense of belonging? Yearning? Dread? Or perhaps all of these things? He doesn't even know if he's truly biologically related to Custard III- or if the kid is even Vanillian. But he knows one thing; He will do anything to protect and nurture this child. After everything he's lost, after the mistakes he's made, he refuses to let anything happen to this boy, to pass up on the second chance that has been presented to him.
He sits on the edge of the bed even after Custard had fallen asleep, watching the boy's slumber. He'd been so quiet, trying his best to process everything. This boy was a living connection to the past. And he deserved a future. A future worth protecting.
“You're all I have,” Pure Vanilla says softly. “And yet… You're enough.”
The castle doesn't feel as lonely after that.