Chapter Text
“What do you mean we’ll be stuck here for three weeks?”
Honestly, Shadow Milk wants to believe that the director is messing with him. He did not spend all his effort and energy preparing for this tour around Beast-Yeast, only for the director to then say that they’ll be spending three weeks within the Faerie Kingdom.
He expected three days at most. Maybe a week. But that’s only for the major kingdoms. This is not a major kingdom.
“Well, this is the first time the Faerie Kingdom has let outsiders in in decades,” says the director, placing a hand on their hip. “The queen and king requested that we stay a while to make a good impression. Besides, I thought you’d be thrilled to spread your reach to these corners of the globe?”
“I am,” Shadow Milk grumbles, slouching against his chair. He turns to look at his mirror, make-up half done and hair still tousled. He does not look like a man ready to get on stage. And maybe that’s because he just learned he’ll be stuck in this boring kingdom for three weeks.
“Just wish I had a heads up…”
“Apoligies. It was a last minute decision,” says the director, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Now chin up! This is a big opening night. You’ll be performing for royalty.”
He’s performed for many kings and queens. He’s performed for princes and duchess’ and lords. Two faeries aren’t going to mean anything. But what does this director know? Still, he gives them a grin as they head out the door, letting it drop as soon as it closes.
And as soon as their footsteps get further away, he buries his head in his hands and screams.
The sound of something dropping in the room next to him reminds him he has neighbors. He doesn’t bother shouting an apology.
Three weeks.
What the fuck do they mean three weeks?
Everything on the schedule was planned out. He was certain they were only here for the weekend. He thought they would be off to some other nowhere kingdom after this. Ignoring the ache in his legs, he stands up and marches over to his bag.
Rummaging through it, he pulls out an empty mascara bottle (he’s been meaning to throw it away), some water (gotta stay hydrated), a cream-filled donut (to snack on), his last script (ew), and finally, the schedule laying at the bottom.
Pushing everything else to the side, he digs it out and flips through it. Sure enough, there are two locations listed in the next three weeks, including traveling and preparations.
His fingers dig into the paper. He tosses it down and grabs his donut, ripping it out of its protective bag.
Taking a bite, he leans against the desk, glaring daggers in the schedule's direction. Maybe those performances got canceled. Maybe that’s why they decided to stay here a bit longer. But two back-to-back kingdoms doing such a thing? When it’s been advertised that he’s the lead actor?
Any kingdom would eat dirt to have him perform in their theaters. Why would these kingdoms get cold feet? Unless…
His gaze shifts towards the script.
It’s been a while since he’s received this one. She’s been leaving him alone for the most part this entire tour, thankfully. But that means something. Especially because he received this script right before the tour started.
Shadow Milk reaches over and takes the script, flipping through it. His eyes skim through the lines, and just as he remembered, there’s no mention of this three week stay in it. He throws the script down and closes his eyes.
The last page mentions him getting casted. That’s it. No details about what will happen on this tour. No asides that say “Hey! He gets stuck in the stupid, boring Faerie Kingdom for three weeks!”
He digs his fingers in his hair.
Why the Faerie Kingdom of all places?
They’re revered in terms of the political side of things. He should know–he’s had to do research. But to the general public? You’re lucky if you’ve met a cookie that even knows they exist.
They’re secluded. They don’t let other cookies into their kingdom willy-nilly. Hell, they’re so against outsiders coming in that the hotel the cast is staying at is activity rotting away. They literally have nothing better because they don’t get tourists!
While kingdoms flock to try and do trade deals with them, the faeries sit in silence, only trading with the kingdoms closest to them. Apparently they don’t see a need to meddle with the outside world often? Or something. Sources vary. At this point, Shadow Milk has no more care left to remember.
The entire reason this tour is a big deal is because this is the first time they’ve allowed outsiders into their kingdom in almost half a century. So they all need to make a good impression! And yet, from the moment Shadow Milk stepped foot through the gates, he only had one thing on his mind:
This place is boring.
There’s trees. There’s flowers. There’s faeries.
That’s it.
From how everyone talked about this place, he expected some rich, beautiful land that felt mystical. He expected a place that would suck you in the moment you laid eyes on it.
And yet, he’s not that impressed.
Oh, so they have music and art? So does everywhere else. They aren’t special.
Witches, he wants to throw up. He shoves the rest of his donut down his throat and storms back to the vanity desk, not caring that his sitting causes a bottle of foundation to fall.
He stares at himself and sighs, running his fingers through his hair.
Well, the reason doesn’t matter right now. He’s going to be stuck here for three weeks. At this point, performing on stage will be his break. So, he might as well try and look his best this opening night.
He’s performing for royalty.
.
.
.
Like every performance, all eyes are on him.
Despite (probably) having never heard of him, he can feel the gasps and gazes as soon as he enters the stage. Every word he speaks falls off his tongue like a melody–something he has spent years crafting. Each movement and inflection comes with ease. Every little ad-lib perfectly slotting well into each scene.
Oh, he forgot the joy of performing to a new audience. It’s delightful.
And don’t get him wrong, he loves his old fans dearly. But there’s something different about the applause of newer fans. They’re mystified. They are enraptured.
And oh, he just loves the attention.
And while he doesn’t usually like doing it, it wouldn’t hurt to sign a few autographs. Everyone else that misses the cut off can come back another day. He will be here a while.
“–oh you are much too kind,” he says to a group of shrieking faeries.
They all look at each other, eyes sparkling with a newfound admiration that he doesn’t get to see often. Being so famous means that being starstruck is different with those that already know your face. But the faeries? Oh, the spark has just started burning.
With giggles, the faeries leave, taking their time to stop at one of his co-stars.
“What a crowd, huh?” says the cookie closest to him. His understudy, Black Sapphire.
“What a gift, isn’t it?” Shadow Milk muses, letting his pen float across the paper handed to him. He hands it to the next faerie in line, watching as they take the poster with absolute glee.
“We usually only see this with bigger kingdoms,” says Black Sapphire, huffing a laugh. “Makes me wonder how long these cookies have been waiting for some outside entertainment.”
“Decades, kid. Decades.”
Black Sapphire hums. “I see.”
Shadow Milk shakes his hand a bit, grimacing at how sore it's gotten. “Ah, despite the line, I think I’ll call it quits for now. There’s a reason I don’t like doing these things.”
“Are you sure? We could just–”
“Once you get a certain amount of experience, you’ll learn to take care of yourself, Black Sapphire,” says Shadow Milk, handing him his pen. “You can stay here if you want, but I’ll be heading back to my dressing room.”
Black Sapphire presses his lips together. “Right. Of course.”
With a wave, Shadow Milk leaves, smiling at the taste of bitter disappointment from his new fans. When he’s finally away from the crowd, slinking into a dark hall, his smile drops and he groans.
Fuck he’s tired.
And yet, getting new fans made it worth it.
He stretches his arms above his head, letting out an incredibly embarrassing sound at the action. Cracking his neck, he sighs as his feet shift back and forth. Turning a corner, he pauses, catching the sight of the director talking to two faeries.
Two of the most beautiful faeries Shadow Milk has ever seen.
Long, flowing hair decorated in flowers. They both seem to glow against the ceiling lamp, illuminating the purples and blues in the taller ones dress, and the greens of the shorter ones cloak.
At the sound of his footsteps, they all turn to look at him. He stands frozen, like he just got caught stealing food out of the fridge at two am.
The director grins, gesturing their hand out to the two. “Shadow Milk! Oh, these two were just talking about your performance! They really wanted to meet you!”
They could’ve waited in line–
“This is the queen and king of the Faerie Kingdom!”
Oh.
“Shit.”
Shadow Milk immediately covers his mouth. “Uh, I mean…”
His ears burn in embarrassment. He’s usually better than this around royalty.
The director shoots him a glare. The king giggles while the queen gives him a knowing look.
“Um,” Shadow Milk continues, stretching a hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” says the faerie queen, shaking his hand. “You are Shadow Milk, correct? We’ve heard so much about you. You may call me Moonflower. And this is my husband.”
“Viridescent Daydream,” he says, taking Shadow Milk’s hand with both of his. He brings it close to his chest, giving Shadow Milk the most adoring smile. “But you can just call me Viridescent.”
From what Shadow Milk remembers about faeries, those aren’t their actual names. The only ones allowed to know such a thing are loved ones. And yet: here Shadow Milk is, his name on full display for both of them.
Eh. He doesn’t really care. Shadow Milk isn’t his birth name anyway.
“Your performance was truly incredible,” says Viridescent, still holding onto Shadow Milk’s hand. His palms are oddly warm. “Absolutely breathtaking. Each movement and inflection was so carefully articulated; how long have you been an actor?”
“My entire life,” Shadow Milk deadpans. “And I’m not kidding, your highness.”
“Oh please, you do not have to call me such a title,” Viridescent pleads, stepping closer. His eyes shine brightly at Shadow Milk, so full of life and wonder. All it takes is one look between him and Moonflower to see who’s had to deal with the hardships in life. This guy probably doesn’t even brush his own teeth.
“Alright,” Shadow Milk draws out. “Viridescent.”
His grin widens. He looks back at Moonflower like a puppy before turning back to Shadow Milk. Moonflower smiles at his reaction, her eyes finding Shadow Milk’s confused stare.
Viridescent is incredibly starstruck. If they’ve heard about him, then surely that means that they’re aware of his previous performances, yes? Is that it? Is Viridescent secretly a massive fan?
Well, it’s not much of a secret. He’s still holding onto Shadow Milk’s hand.
Shadow Milk pulls away and clears his throat. “Thank you for your kind words,” he says, dusting his hand off on his pants. “But it’s been a long day. Perhaps you can come back another day and we can continue this conversation–”
“Oh, if you’re tired, surely a walk will do wonders in helping you relax!”
Shadow Milk blinks at Viridescent. “...Right now?”
“Why yes,” says Viridescent. “The fireflies and sound of crickets are beautiful this time of night. It’ll only be for a few minutes. Please?”
Shadow Milk lulls his head to the side. He really doesn’t want to. He’s tired. He’s sweaty. His legs might actually kill him. But judging from the stare of the director, he probably has too. “For your image” or something. So he lets in a deep inhale. “Fine.”
Viridescent is gasping like a giddy teenager. He takes Shadow Milk’s hand, and leads him away. With the speed and way he’s expertly traversing the halls, they might as well be teenagers.
Finally, Viridescent is pushing open the back exit doors, looking around to make sure no one can spot them. His hold on Shadow Milk’s hand never falters as they step out into the moonlight.
Sure enough, the sound of crickets is immediate. Shadow Milk hums at them, letting Viridescent continue dragging him, this time at a slower pace.
“Oh, the fresh air is just inspiring, isn’t it?” says Viridescent. His pretty smile never leaves his face. Against the moonlight, it shimmers, making him look otherworldly. “It’s a reminder that we are living, breathing cookies, all existing simultaneously in this world together.”
“Well aren’t you chipper,” Shadow Milk grumbles, turning away. They stumble upon an old, beaten down path composed of dirt. A few stones stick out from the ground, sitting as a reminder of the past. Viridescent leads him down the path, a giggle seeping past his lips.
“But of course!” he exclaims. “The world is simply breath-taking.” Letting go of Shadow Milk’s hand, he runs over to a fallen tree. Bending down, he picks up something, turning to reveal that it’s a caterpillar. “Even in the simplest things…there is joy.”
“And there is also pain,” Shadow Milk retorts. Witches, this guy is sunshine incarnate. If he starts waxing poetry on the spot, Shadow Milk might actually leave. Screw his public image.
“Pain is just a part of life,” says Viridescent. He walks over and places the caterpillar in Shadow Milk’s hand. “It, like air, is just a reminder that we’re alive.”
He resists the urge to roll his eyes. But, he looks down at the caterpillar anyway. It’s very ugly. The fact allows him to snort. When he looks up, he sees that Viridescent is staring directly at him.
Weirdo.
He hands the caterpillar back to Viridescent.
“Ah,” Viridescent says, face flushing a rather lovely shade of red. He places the caterpillar down. “Apoligies. I hope I haven’t embarrassed myself around you.”
You have.
“You haven’t,” he lies.
“It’s just…a few of my faeries have mentioned your name in passing. The faeries that go to do trade agreements in neighboring kingdoms, you see. We know that you’re well known out there. A- and I absolutely adore theater, so when Moonflower mentioned that you would be the lead in this play, I just had to come and see you perform. And I must say…” he takes both of Shadow Milk’s hands, “you are much more enchanting than I ever imagined.”
Shadow Milk tenses up as his face flushes. He stares dumbfounded at Viridescent, eyes shifting everywhere but his eyes. “Enchanting?” he says with a laugh. “That’s a big word there.”
“And it doesn’t feel like enough, does it?” Viridescent exclaims. He steps closer. “You were radiant. Magnificent. You truly encapsulated the character well. I- I could notice how even the smallest twitch to your brows was intentional.”
How was he able to see that? Dear lord, no one has ever complimented him like this. They usually say “I liked your performance” and move on. But this? Shadow Milk can feel his ears burning. The beautiful smile from Viridescent is not helping. “Your highness–”
“Viridescent.”
“R- right. Viridescent. I appreciate your words, you’re too kind, but–”
“Is it not kind enough? Oh, if I had known that you would enrapture me so, I would have prepared better. I’m sure the cookies around you have given much better compliments. Give me a day and I will have all my thoughts written down. Oh, you’ve inspired me, dear.”
Dear–?!
“You’ve inspired me so much–”
“Okay!” exclaims Shadow Milk, pulling away. “Enraptured? Inspired? You’ve just met me. Jeez, if you’re gonna say things like that, at least take me to dinner.”
Viridescent perks up, wings fluttering. “Oh? Of course! I- I wanted to wait a bit before asking but uh, would you like to come to dinner with me tomorrow? It’ll be right before your performance; I could drop you off after!”
Shadow Milk sputters. “W- wait what?”
“Seeing you up close like this, you are rather beautiful,” proclaims Viridescent. He steps forward, the red in his cheeks flowing to his ears. “And judging from your comments and how everyone talks about you well, I just can’t help it. You intrigue me, Shadow Milk. I want to get to know the man off the stage.”
Shadow Milk blinks.
Is.
Is he asking him out?
The king of the faeries? Asking him out?
Him? Out?
He blinks a few more times.
Apparently he’s not dreaming.
But he coughs and raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? You have a wife–”
“Oh it’s not like that between us,” Viridescent says. “Trust me…we get confused as a couple all the time,” he grumbles.
It’s the first time he’s seen Viridescent as not happy. It’s, well, for lack of a better term, intriguing.
“So is it a political marriage then…?” he carefully asks.
“Sort of. We went without a king for a few years after the last one passed, but a lot of the citizens and neighboring kingdoms demanded one. Moonflower and I have been friends since we were little, so she asked me and I agreed.”
“And she’d be okay with us getting dinner?”
“Of course!” says Viridescent, smile returning to his face. “She encouraged me to approach you when she noticed my longing. So, if you’re alright with it, do you want to get dinner…?”
Shadow Milk stares into his shining eyes for a moment. His hand twitches, reminded that he can’t exactly get too comfortable with anyone. He grumbles at the fact, but it’s for the best. Although…it has been a while since he’s had a fleeting romance. This guy is incredibly pretty. He is gonna be here for three weeks. Why not make one dinner two dinners? Why not make two dinners one night of lust and passion?
Fuck, it has been a while. His eyes shift over Viridescent.
Hm. Yeah. He could ruin this faerie.
And he’s a king. Shadow Milk has never been with a king before.
So he smirks and meanders over, leaning down closer to Viridescent. “Alright,” he purrs, adoring the blush that creeps down Viridescent’s neck. “I’ll go to dinner with you. But be warned, I’ve been told I’m easy to get addicted to.”
Viridescent gasps, eyes finding Shadow Milk’s. His gaze shifts over Shadow Milk’s face before he grins, reaching out to take his hand. “Oh, I can feel your venom already…”
Shadow Milk laughs.
“Then it’s a date.”
.
.
.
Shadow Milk really should not have gone on that walk. His legs are screaming at him to sit down. Oh well. At least he got a date out of it. Looks like there’s some good things to come out of being stuck here.
He opens the door to his dressing room, ready to wash up and leave for his crappy hotel room. Stretching, he yawns, body tired and sore. But just before he can start changing, a little something sitting against the vanity desk catches his eye.
A script.
Hesitantly, he walks over, tentatively reaching a hand out. He holds it up and turns to the first page.
And is instantly filled with dread.