Reciprocity

by hyperdreamer

Summary:

If not for the colours of his hair, she would not have recognised Affogato before her. In the cold of the cell, he hung limp in shackles —
“Why is he here?”
She stepped into the cell, gesturing towards the unconscious man. The guardsman cleared his throat,
“Awaiting execution, sir.”

 

.:. or, Affogato Cookie redemption arc

Notes:

No one is writing this ship so i’m gonna have to… -_- be warned, this is my first fic…

This is set during the time of Cookie Odyssey by the way!

Chapter 1: Day One

Despite her renowned stamina and years of experience protecting the kingdom, it had taken only a few days for Caramel Arrow to tire from working in the king's courts. How His Majesty could attend to all these duties everyday, she could only wonder. The advisors spent what felt like millenia arguing back and forth over irrelevant details which Caramel Arrow argued could easily be left for a less busy time to organise, alas, the kingdom still had endless matters to deal with. As a Watcher, Caramel Arrow had never worried about land grants or tax rates or employments. Now she was to manage them all as a stand in for the king.

She wiped the beads of sweat from her head as a swift hand signed off her last report of the day. Managing the king’s work was one thing, but the standard to which she worked had to be praiseworthy — in the least. Not a week had passed and she was more worn out than if she had been exiled for another two months. And exile was… difficult to say the least.

She rose from her desk before heading towards the messenger’s office. By some miracle she had finished her work early. Actually, not a miracle. She was up well before dawn. But she had finished early enough for some down time. At least before the next court meeting. Something along the lines of additional food provision to the eastern quadrant.

She would love for it to be a simple yes to the people, but there were the necessary discussions of divisions and delegations and rationing which could last who-knows-how-long. The king had left with a group of cream wolf commanders including Captain Crunchy Chip to meet in the recently rediscovered Vanilla Kingdom. His Majesty didn’t disclose much more information than that, but Caramel Arrow didn’t need much to follow an instruction.

No one would hear a complaint from her. It was an honour to be doing this. Unprecedented, in fact, that the rule of the kingdom would be handed over since its formation, even more so that she was left in charge indefinitely.

After delivering the scrolls, she allowed herself a short breath outside the room. Shadows of the empty hallway cowered in the light of the snow and fire. With her calmer facade back, Caramel Arrow paced back to her quarters, barely glancing at the choco emblems decorating the walls.

The richly built halls wafting with cocoa which regularly gave her a sense of pride seemed a little dark now — when was the last time she was outside in the bright snow? With so much to do she had no chance for a morning stroll, let alone a scouting break. Now was her chance. She had to catch her break now, otherwise it would be back to working day in and day out until his Majesty returned.

But as she journeyed through the palace halls, an unfamiliar passage caught her eye. Footsteps echoed and as she glanced through, a wide set of stairs descended out of sight. She turned to keep walking but heard voices murmuring alongside the steps. What kind of soldier would she be if she didn’t keep track of every room in the kingdom? Every hallway and staircase? What kind of king would she be?

Her boots clomped down the chocolate stairs, sconces carrying violet flames lighting her feet. She passed by a pair of soldiers who bowed in respect, to which she nodded. All seemed well as she rounded the corner to a long corridor lined with criss-crossed bars. The dungeons. Caramel Arrow had never been into the dungeons before — they weren’t often used in a kingdom that favoured execution. Her role as a Watcher ended at delivering the perpetrator to the courts. If they were sent to the dungeons after, it was a mercy and also not her concern.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she travelled down the hallway towards another guardsman sitting on a short stool. Empty cell after empty cell swirled with cold air, as she’d suspected, but the man fiddling with a set of keys made her continue.
The final cell let natural light into the hallway and the guardsman bowed his head in greeting, remaining on his seat. He glanced mindlessly at the open cell to her right. Caramel Arrow faltered at the sight of a man chained inside.

If not for the colours of his hair, she would not have recognised Affogato before her. In the cold of the cell, he hung limp in shackles — his fine clothing torn and short hair matted in rope-like clumps.
“Why is he here?” She stepped into the cell, gesturing towards the unconscious man. The guardsman cleared his throat, failing to avoid sounding uncomfortable.
“Awaiting execution, sir.”
Caramel Arrow momentarily allowed herself a smile at the kingdom's victory, but as she tried to recall when Affogato had been in the King’s court or even apprehended, no time came to mind. He had escaped in the kerfuffle of the prince’s return and the Licorice Sea’s invasion.

“Under His Majesty’s orders?” she asked the guardsman who waited behind the cell walls. He avoided her gaze. It was up to King Dark Cacao to decide when prisoners were worthy of an execution. A life is not something a person should take easily, and the citizens of the kingdom trusted His Majesty to make these decisions wisely.

“No, Ma’am, the king is not aware of this capture but I do not doubt he will be pleased once he returns to a fallen enemy.”

Caramel Arrow should have been happy to see this traitor — the same man who soiled her name and had her exiled — suffering in the dungeons, but discomfort welled inside her. This man had not been put on trial yet he was being neglected like some injured mutt.
Unclothed and unfed so as to not waste resources. What if his sentencing was not one deserving of treason? To be treated like this under her rule? Was this not against cookie rights? But this was Affogato — the conniving snake, the cookie who hated her.

Unmoving, Caramel Arrow watched the thin body shivering. An inkling of sympathy seeped through her, though she tried to ignore it. As she moved closer she could see the face of Affogato, drenched in feverish sweat, makeup smudged and trailing down his cheeks. His brows were furrowed but face remained unmoving even as she brought her hand to his forehead. Though drafts brought a chill to Caramel Arrow’s neck down in these dungeons, Affogato’s skin was hot to the touch. His shallow breaths were a plea for immediate attention, especially if he was going to survive until a trial. Caramel Arrow didn’t even know when the king was due to return.

“May I have the keys?” She turned to face the guardsman. He looked hesitant but spoke evenly, “Ma’am, this man has been accused of treason and awaits trial. It would be unwise to free him.”
Caramel Arrow could not help but scowl, “this man had not been officially accused of treason and more importantly should not be locked away like this, especially with no direction from the King. You risk bringing dishonour to our kingdom by mistreating him. Prisoners are not to die in their cells.” The guardsman glanced at Affogato, stony faced. Caramel Arrow would not blame him for the anger that surely every Cacao soldier felt, but still directed his attention back to her,

“I will also remind you that his Majesty has left me in charge during his absence and so by denying me you are denying the king himself. Again, I ask for the keys to his shackles.” The guardsman sighed and began to search his coat.

 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

 

Caramel Arrow tried not to spill any water as she brought a wet cloth across the chamber to the sleeping cookie. The guard’s room was unoccupied with the current mission ongoing and Affogato needed to be left somewhere private. Caramel Arrow had struggled to carry — drag — him through the halls, especially avoiding the guard’s rounds after that bitter interaction with the dungeon guardsman. No need for vengeful assassinations on her watch.

She had dropped him onto the low sleeping mat, dirty over the clean covers, and he’d been groaning incoherently since, eyes still screwed shut and body tensed. She pressed the cold cloth to his forehead and his eyes opened immediately. Her dabbing movements didn’t stop as he slowly lifted his hand to rub his eyes. They opened again, red and confused.

“First watcher?” He rasped out, “why of all people do you have to be in my afterlife?” She glowered but finished wiping the dark streaks of makeup from his cheeks.

“You’re not dead yet.”

He responded with an unamused hm while she handed over a bowl from behind her. He raised himself to his elbow before slowing like he’d shatter his bones if he moved too fast.

“Here,” she placed the heated dish into his hands once his back rested against the paneled walls. He raised the bowl to his nose and breathed in the slow-cooked carrots, cauliflower, and various greens. Caramel Arrow had missed her lunch slot, but managed to have two servings delivered on her way across the palace. Affogato began to tip the bowl to his lips when she interrupted, “Don’t want a spoon?” She held out the singular spoon delivered with the soup to which Affogato only moved his gaze.

“No, thank you,” he responded politely, before drinking the soup down in six heavy gulps. Of course, Caramel Arrow had seen Affogato eating before, as she attended the king’s feasts, sometimes as a guard and sometimes as a guest, but he always picked at his food quietly. Whether sitting next to His Majesty, or even his own disciples, he never really gorged himself like the other soldiers and servants did. On the odd occasion, Caramel Arrow found him in the stores, eating jellies, but it was always in a mouse-like manner. When he was caught his whole face would blush and he’d storm off muttering about work to be finished, cursing the First Watcher.

Caramel Arrow almost began to smile thinking back in hindsight, but she only had to look at his thin wrists and gaunt face to realise why. “You look starved,” she said without thinking. Affogato scoffed easily, side-eyeing the second bowl next to her.
“I am. Your prison guards don’t treat their captives very well.” His voice rang with his usual caustic flair toward her and she quickly fired back.

“You were in line for execution,” she recalled. “It would be a waste.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t argue back this time. He pursed his lips, looking away from her and focused on the door. The only exit from this room. He noticed her noticing him and looked back to the bowl in his hands. Caramel Arrow imagined eating hers now in front of him. A tempting thought.

“So, what possessed you to take me out of those wretched dungeons and bring me here,” he motioned to the room, wide and empty besides a wardrobe and desk sitting opposite the rows of empty sleeping mats, “in the chambers of the king’s guard, I presume.”
Caramel Arrow picked up her soup bowl, now that the conversation had turned. “Yes, you must await trial and sentencing but the king is not present.” He narrowed his catlike eyes at the revelation.

“Where is His Majesty?” His tone was still mean but his curiosity seemed to dampen it.
“He is away for a few days.” She began spooning the soup at a pace not unlike her usual time in her tower. Affogato watched blankly. His face morphed into mild annoyance when he realised she had said all she wanted to. She lowered the spoon after recognising his prying.

“I am currently in charge so it’s of no concern to you.”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes impudently. His fists balled up, but he said nothing more. Caramel Arrow didn’t pick the spoon back up and just looked at the floating particles in the soup. Another silence filled the room, a misplaced tension unsure where to settle.

“Can you pardon me of my imprisonment?”

Caramel Arrow looked up to see Affogato with an almost sheepish look upon his face. His discomfort only reminded her of the times His Majesty reprimanded him in front of the court. How did this man ever become the king’s second? Besides his deceit, of course.

“Why would I ever do that?” She fumed, “Besides, the king may arrest you as soon as he receives word of your presence when he returns—”

“So, you are merely delaying the inevitable,” he interrupted bitterly. She didn’t bite back, but that didn’t make things any better. He was right. For a moment she questioned why she’d even brought him up here.
Should she have just turned a blind eye in those dungeons? Could she have? She was supposed to treat all cookies honourably. Is that why she cleaned and fed him here? For his honour? Her own?

“May I have some more food, please?”

It was the same thing the young children would ask in the villages of the outer border, with their fingers frostbitten and stomachs still unsatisfied. Her hands tightened around the bowl.

“Last time I gave food in charity it was used to exile me.” She began to stand from her knelt position.

“Caramel Arrow,” Affogato held onto her arm, weak but panicky, “I apologise for my past actions.” She remained where she stood but listened skeptically.
“I believe in reciprocity for a cookie’s actions, I do, but I also realise that you are a caring person and so I beg for your sympathy in this moment. Please. I promise I will find a way to repay you.” He looked into her eyes, his own round and surprisingly pleading. His thin brows furrowed with concern and his grip became tighter.

Caramel Arrow had heard words like these from cookies like him before. It was a good act. But did that mean he didn’t deserve to eat? How could she deny someone food and then eat it herself? She had rebuked Affogato for doing the same thing. She didn’t expect him to repay her, but she definitely didn’t want to stoop to that level. Now she had to hide her reluctance.

“Alright.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, relieved, letting go of her. Caramel Arrow knelt to one knee, holding her quarter-eaten soup to him. He raised both hands to take the bowl, his fingers closing over hers for a moment as they exchanged the dish. Caramel Arrow frowned. The heat of his skin far surpassed the warmed bowl. She watched him drink the soup, slower this time. Beads of sweat still dispersed across his discoloured skin.

Caramel Arrow had been injured before, she had served in the Cacao army since she could shoot straight. She knew the difference between being worn out and injured, and Affogato, with his short breaths and careful movements, was clearly hurt.

“Are you alright?” She sat back down again, half on the sleeping mat. He side-eyed her again, but lowered the bowl to answer.
“I am better than I have been in the past few weeks if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No no no.” Why would he hide an injury? Maybe he didn’t even realise it was there. She leaned over him and began quickly pawing over at his limbs and chest.

“What are you doing?” He peevishly raised the bowl away from her, movements stuttering as he turned. “You are going to make me drop my soup.”

“When you were captured, were you attacked?” She leaned back to give him space again.
“Well, it isn't like I just handed myself over,” he tutted.
She frowned at his disregard. “I need you to take off your garments.” She tugged at the front of his collar for emphasis. He scoffed in response and pushed her away.

“A little forward, Caramel Arrow. I’m going to have to pass.”

She swatted at the hand pushing her, “what are you— do you have any cuts or stab wounds?”

Affogato’s face didn’t flicker in recognition, but he placed his bowl down and patted at his torso, “let me see.” A hiss escaped him when he reached his right side waist. He struggled to remove his layers, immediately stopping Caramel Arrow when she moved to help, but eventually pulled them aside to reveal half of his under layer stained dark and maroon. He raised the fabric to reveal a spear wound festering with too many colours. Caramel Arrow’s stomach swooped and she quickly stumbled to her feet.

“I’ll call a healer immediately. How did you miss this?”

Affogato began to remove his soiled layers, “do forgive me for not noticing sooner, the pain of starvation happened to outweigh it.” Caramel Arrow glared in response, making her way towards the door, leaving Affogato ever the more concerned. “Is it that bad?”

Caramel Arrow decidedly did not answer and unlatched the chamber door. “Do not leave this room. You are still a prisoner.”

“I thought I needed a trial.”

“You’re a suspect of treason so I am allowed to have you locked up.” She wasn’t keen to argue with him again. She stepped outside and he spoke up again,

“Are you able to get me any more food?” He asked politely again.

“I will see,” Caramel Arrow answered with less reluctance than she meant. She dug in her pockets to find a master key.

“And Caramel Arrow?” He called out again before she could pull the door closed. He sat upright on his mat still, holding the empty bowl in his lap again.

“Yes, Affogato?”

“Thank you — for your kindness.”

She offered a small smile before ducking away and locking him inside.

✦

Affogato waited a moment after her footsteps faded away to try to stand up. His arms shook before he could pull his legs under him. Landing back with a huff, he stacked the two food bowls and laid back down. His gaze settled on the door he could not yet reach.

Notes:

Hi!!! I’m surprised you made it to the end… let me know if there are any mistakes.
Also, if you liked it or want more let me know because I have the whole story planned out ;)

Chapter 2: Day Two

Notes:

hi everyone, first of all thank you for all your kind words! where did you come from

The doctor only arrived at dawn. Affogato, eyes tired and face still glistening with sweat, recognised her puff of white hair and delicate movements before she even turned around. 

“Affogato,” she greeted blankly. Behind small round glasses, her face betrayed her own disappointment. Affogato didn’t read into it.

“Snowy Cookie. I’m surprised to see you again.” She didn’t deem him a response. In her arms were a bucket and a parcel. Her polished sandals clacked against the tiled floor until they stood at his bedside. She brought along a strong waft of herbs and alcohol, which grew stronger when she opened the woven parcel. Out came various sharp instruments and pots of concoctions known by only the sky god and Snowy Cookie herself.

Affogato had worked alongside her briefly while developing his local aromatherapy knowledge. He had oh-so resourcefully utilised her work to improve the king’s temperament, or at least tried to until she received the blame for tainting “the pleasant chocolate smell of their homeland” during a common fit from the king. She hadn’t even been demoted, but had still relinquished Affogato’s apprenticeship. Any disappointment he may have harboured was quickly left behind when he easily surpassed her in rank and knowledge, using foreign magic practice to impress His Majesty. He had even ruled over her for a time when he was self-promoted and didn’t even act on his temptations to exile her too. He was above that. Above her.

Now, she stood over him, a wine jar beside her and a gleaming blade in hand. Affogato had the foresight to remove his outer layers of clothes, but braced as she brought the knife to his crimson-stained underlayer. He didn’t fear she’d hurt him deliberately, but he didn’t expect her to try very hard not to. The doctor was also as loyal as any blind follower of Dark Cacao, which meant their discrepancies only piled up. Alas, she was nimble as ever; he didn’t even feel as the cloth fell away and his festering wound was revealed. 

✦ 

Whether it was an hour or three later, Affogato didn’t know or care; he was just relieved it was over. He lay flat on the bed, bare chest wrapped a few times over, tears mixed into the sweat wetting his face, and pus mixed in with the blood smeared across the floor. Snowy Cookie began to wipe the floors, her deep purple linens sullied now. He may not have felt her hands cleaning his wound, but he felt every turn and press of the instruments removing crust and debris from inside him.

He attempted to speak, but his screaming from before left his throat dry and coarse. He imagined reaching for the doctor’s hangari, drinking down the sweet alcohol inside, but he could not let his guard down. He was still a prisoner, and he needed to know how he was going to get out. 

Snowy Cookie began to depart, but paused when he finally managed to ask, “Where is Caramel Arrow?”

She continued to the door, “Busy.”

“When will she be back?”

She opened the door and stepped out, leaving with the command, “Don’t irritate your wound any more, Affogato.” 

The door slammed closed, and Affogato was left with himself again. He gave himself a moment while the burning and numbness mixed in his mind. 

A moment was enough. He stood, slowly, shakily, told himself the pain was good, he was healing now. He stumbled towards the door, where light shone through from underneath. He wanted that light of the sun, so he reached the door. He grasped onto the stone handle and pushed down with his little strength. The door stayed closed. He dropped his head against the hard wood.

“Damn it. Damn her.”

 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　　

 

Caramel Arrow arrived at the chambers after the noon meeting, three bowls teetering on her right arm as she dug through her robes for the master key. The latest meeting had run overtime again, as the citadel wall had slowed in its production. Not enough time and not enough cocoa available. They had considered importing coffee to dilute the brick composition, but ultimately couldn’t afford the costs with the little they earned from milk exports, so she had spent the past two hours looking at cutting down cocoa usage in the villages. Those poor villagers. His Majesty must have been more graceful with his sacrifices, but steering their priorities away from the citizens left Caramel Arrow’s blood boiling. She had tried to calm down by the time she reached the mess, but ended up snapping at the staff for three servings and leaving the hall without greeting.

When she entered the room-now-cell, shoulder pushing the door while she balanced the bowls, Affogato was already sitting up, face calm and carrying his usual conspiratory air again. 

“Welcome back,” he smiled, not at all friendly. His health appeared to be better; his longer hair was tucked behind his ears, and his face was washed so she could see some colour had returned to his skin. 

She sat beside his mat, only saying “here” when she handed him two of the bowls. They ate in silence. Caramel Arrow tried to focus on the taste of the food on her tongue and not the grating sound of cutlery and kitchenware. She didn’t have anything to say to him and frankly didn’t know why she came today, other than to find a quiet room. 

“Have my disciples been present at your meetings?” 

She must have jinxed herself. Affogato looked up from his second bowl expectantly. Why did he care where his disciples were? He had no need for them. They only served to encourage his inflated ego, they were barely even students.

“Your followers were graciously dismissed back into the kingdom. They’re not welcome in the citadel,” she snarled. 

He glared at her tone, “Don’t you mean exiled?”

His eyes, a wilted lavender, held hers, challenging. Caramel Arrow remembered those eyes upturned, painted with powders and kohl. She could hear Dark Cacao’s voice, its reverb off the court walls… Then there was only the wind roaring and snow coating her skin and her stomach groaning and the tears escaping her. She had cut her hands sharpening her arrows, and her mind would always drift to Affogato’s throat.

“I mean not executed.” She slammed her bowl down, and the man flinched away. 

“Touché,” he managed as she slowly stood and moved to the other side of the room, sighing and muttering to herself. Out of her robe, she pulled a scroll and began to read over it. Affogato continued to eat but watched as she reached the room’s sole writing desk and began scratching out words.

Caramel Arrow calmed down with the monotony of her checklist. Most of her work was done; she’d done well enough in the first week, expecting His Majesty to have returned by now. Her natural waking rhythm meant she could get more done in a day than the king ever had… it was a responsibility that came with the blessing of being a watcher. Now that she wasn’t guarding the citadel, she could enjoy more time inside it. Of course, it was darker and there were more people in the way, and she did have duties to complete, but at least it was a checklist she had to wait for and not the setting sun.

“It’s awfully dull in here.”

Affogato had eaten the three bowls of food in the time she had stepped away. They were stacked neatly aside, and he now sat with the blankets wrapped around his shoulders. Caramel Arrow turned back to her scroll. 

He lasted about a minute before speaking up again, “Could you be a dear and collect my seokjang staff and books from my old quarters?”

“Not happening, you snake.” 

“Snake?” He spluttered melodramatically, touching his heart. “You do use that one a lot.”

“You are!” Attention stolen, she faced him again.  “You’re deceitful—“

“I say what I must,” he interrupted.

“—and slippery, ” she ignored him.

“I did get away, didn’t I?”

“And it was only a matter of time before you shed your skin and revealed yourself to be a power-hungry absolutist.”

“Big words, Caramel Arrow.” He wasn’t fazed. “And don’t you forget, a snake has multiple skins.” 

She scoffed at him. Was that another threat? She couldn’t tell. Besides, she didn’t care; he was the one injured in bed.

“Well, the last thing I need you doing is performing spells.”

“Well, what else am I meant to do?” 

“I preferred you when you were more placid yesterday.”

“Oh, when I was starving to death?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t have a response for that, so he pulled the blanket tighter around himself. 

Eventually: “You don’t have to be such a mule about it.” 

Did he always have to get the last word in? Caramel Arrow made her way back toward him. He lit up like he was ready to pounce onto any word she spoke, but she picked up their bowls and turned around silently. He deflated again.

“At least get my makeup,” he tried. When she reached the door, he added a supplementary “please.”

She lingered another moment. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　. 　

 

By evening, Caramel Arrow had spent another six hours in and out of the citadel. Confirming building plans, acknowledging community events, deciding future steps for the multitudes of projects, it just went on. If you were to ask, she’d finally admit that she was unhappy with Dark Cacao right now. Frustrated may be a better word. Or bothered. But all with due respect, of course. The daily tasks had little structure and required too much racing back and forth, and while His Majesty relied on resolution alone, Caramel Arrow was not used to pushing herself beyond what was needed for survival. Any anger she felt had dwindled into lingering fatigue. Alas, she would manage. She had to. 

✦ 

Inside his cell, Affogato lay shaking. The single blanket may as well have been threadbare. His teeth clacked loudly, and his core already clenched to the point of pain, yet the temperature continued to drop as the night came near. Undignified, if you were to ask him, but in his privacy, he allowed his body to do as it pleased, trying to rest in his disgruntled state. Had the citadel always been so cold? He was missing a few layers, sure, but hadn’t he been sweating like a pig just this morning? 

A broken fever, he was sure. He should be happy to be healing, but unfortunately, he didn’t feel much better. Not a single oil lamp could be found in the room, let alone a fireplace. He’d hold out until Caramel Arrow returned. He could surely convince her to bring a lantern, or a bigger blanket, or a hot drink if he was really lucky. Thankfully, luck was a close friend of his. 

His prayers were answered soon enough, and the sound of a jangling key filled the quiet room. The door creaked open again, and he propped himself up to see the stand-in king herself. Late for dinner, according to his internal clock, but at least she showed up. 

Her feet practically dragged behind her, and she said no word as she dropped to the floor beside him. The heavy thump left a silence before Caramel Arrow fumbled the rustling package open. An assortment of crackers and jellies fell outwards, and Affogato winced as some rolled onto the floorboards. She seemed off. He held back another shiver of chattering teeth.

Her feisty mood had clearly depressed, which could surely prove to be a pleasant surprise; with luck, she’d be a bit receptive to the drink idea. He just needed to make it seem like it was her own.

Caramel Arrow ate the crackers quickly without lifting her head. Like a shy squirrel, if squirrels had sagging shoulders and fogged over eyes. Now, she reached for a jelly and Affogato took the opportunity to place his icy hand on hers. She pulled her hand away and stared back, frowning, spiteless, though maybe confused. He raised an eyebrow, questioning. She sighed.

“I don’t have much time today.” 

He laid it on thick: “You should take a break. Your personal health is important.”

She squinted. She knew that tone. He used it with the king often. She wouldn’t be fooled. He wanted something and was willing to give her the credit for the idea. 

“My personal health can wait, the citadel cannot.”

“Yes, but consider how much the citadel may benefit when you’re working in your best condition.”

She mindlessly folded the jellies back into the package. When was the last time she was in her best condition? She always strived to do her best, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dropping dead by nightfall. But she could handle tired eyes and aching feet. It was her duty to handle it – for her king and her kingdom.

“I’m not so sure – warriors do not take breaks. They work where and when they are needed, no matter how often that may be,” she recited. Affogato stared blankly. She offered him the rest of the food and stood to leave. He brushed her hand aside and struggled to his feet, blanket falling around his ankles.

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” he said, stepping past.

“Why?” She stayed planted beside the bed.

“You are clearly in dire need of a break, and I need to stretch my legs.”

“You can walk around this room.”

“I want to make you something–” She opened her mouth to argue, and he raised his volume over her, “– in the kitchen, where I'm asking you to take us.”

How was he so entitled? Had he forgotten he was a prisoner, standing here in this locked room? To the kitchens of all places! She watched his hand clutching his side still. Injured and arrogant. Did she expect anything else? 

“You are not allowed outside of this room.”

“Are you not in charge? Make a once-off exception,” his face morphed into some imitation of coyness, a trick he also used on the king. She almost squirmed. “Trust me, you will not regret it.”

“I don’t have the time. I have reports to write.” She made for the door again, and he grabbed hold of her sleeve, the thick fabric taut as he pulled toward himself.

“You’re in charge! Tell someone else to do it!” 

She could. She didn’t really have to do any work, did she? Caramel Arrow hadn’t considered it. His Majesty always did everything himself. Why was he so insistent on this self-inflicted difficulty? Did it make him feel better? Did he feel less guilty for the way he worked the citizens?

“It needs to be done correctly,” she argued before going down a treacherous line of thought. He let go of her sleeve.

“Do you have no faith in your citizens?” His wide eyes and creased brow appeared sympathetic, but his lips twitched momentarily into a smile both mocking and mean. It disappeared in an instant, and he gestured with his head towards the door. As if he’d caught her out? 

Granted, she had eaten most of his portion, and they had missed the proper dinner, and the whole point of bringing the man up here was that he wasn’t starving to death. Still, he couldn’t think he had convinced her. 

Maybe she did want to go. It wasn’t Affogato’s convincing, that’s for sure. But the reports could be written by others, and her hunger wasn’t satiated, and she was perfectly capable of acting as his guard. She sighed again, feigning exasperation. He folded his arms before shivering again.

“I do not trust you, Affogato, but –” He lightened at the syllable–

“–Believe me, I want to help you, Caramel Arrow. Remember I said I’d repay you?”

She raised her hand to quiet him, “Alright! Alright.”

✦ 

Affogato froze as they passed the dressing room mirror. A second later, he was stumbling into the glass, pressing his forefinger to the bags under his eyes and dragging his other hand through his knotted hair..

“I cannot possibly go out looking like this,” he almost wailed. In the reflection, he watched as she folded her arms impatiently. He checked nearby drawers for new robes and at least some kohl to distract from his gloomy face. A bone comb was the only thing recovered. Affogato searched the room more, past the lines of beds was a long row of closet doors.

“What is in these wardrobes?” He opened them without hesitation and began rifling through the coats. “I’ll make something work.”

By now, Caramel Arrow had stalked over. She pressed her palm to the door and tried to close it. “Those are for the king's guard. People are not going to know you and call you out.”

He pushed back on the door, holding it open with his grounded foot, “Then I’ll wear something that isn’t for the king's guard.” He reached the next colourway and pulled out a grey and white furred coat.

Caramel Arrow released the door as she threw her hands up, exasperated. “They’re all for the guards! This is a guard’s chamber!”

“You are being very difficult right now,” he tutted. She blanked. “What about these uniforms?” He held the coat towards her. “I’ve never seen these around the palace before.” 

She lifted the flap of the hood, hands sinking into the thick lining. “Oh. That is a cream-wolf commander's uniform.” Affogato concluded that the citadel members were not likely to know the entire cream-wolf commander roster, nor assume they did.

“I can make this work.”

“I’m sure you’ll look the part.”

“Is that irony I’m detecting?” Affogato reached the mirror once more and shrugged on his outer layer. Caramel Arrow returned to her post by the unlocked door while he fixed the new layers and belts in place. The thick fabric piled around his lithe frame.

“Hurry,” she huffed, “we don’t have all night.” The light from beneath the door had faded to the orange glow of the setting sun, but Affogato had a more pressing matter to deal with. His white bangs felt dead as he curled a strand around a finger. Its past shine and wave were lost to neglect. 

Affogato looked into the mirror for an odd moment before announcing, “I cannot go out with my hair like this.”

“Why not?”

“Give me 10 minutes.”

“Okay…” She cracked the door open, unnoticed by the man pulling a comb through his locks, and surveyed the empty halls. Sunset brought a change in shifts as the day workers retired to their homes and the night workers returned to the palace. The kitchen didn’t have designated cooks until early mornings. That gave them a decent few hours, but Caramel Arrow intended to get some sleep, and the idea of roaming cleaners made her anxious. They couldn’t accuse her of anything wrong, but she wasn’t keen on starting any conflict with Affogato and her subjects. He, of course, was held in very, very low regard — to put it lightly — and Doctor Snowy made that very clear to her post-checkup. Caramel Arrow pushed the door closed again and returned to Affogato’s side. She examined the entangled mass of lilac and heather strands, bone white and cream framing his face. It reminded her of her own hair after winter storms, damp with snowmelt and tangled from the winds. 

“If I help you, we can leave in five.” 

“That’s not how this works,” he responded, but handed over the comb without reluctance.

✦ 

Once the knots were long gone, Affogato’s hair fell in neat, detangled layers up to his shoulders. He gathered it all in one hand and raised it to his crown.

“Up or down?” He asked. Caramel Arrow wasn’t sure why he’d bother with asking her opinion on his hair, but still, she studied the way his face shape changed when the hair was pulled back, out of his eyes, off his forehead. His rounder cheeks looked more defined, while the line of his jaw looked lighter. More noticeably, his bright eyes stood out more as the only light feature besides his white teeth. He suddenly narrowed his eyes and arched his thin brows at her questioningly. 

She cleared her throat, “Both look fine,” and looked away, back to the door, the beds, the floor. She really must have been low on sleep.

His eyes immediately shifted from a squint to an overdramatic roll.

“No, I mean how do the commanders wear it?” His snippy attitude didn’t come across. Caramel Arrow went over the kingdom's uniforms in her mind. The Watchers had no strict hair regulations, hence her current overlong ponytail. But the commanders…

“Up or short.”

He swiftly tied a bun atop his head and turned to face her.

“Great. Now we’re matching.”

✦ 

The clicking of shoes echoed through the halls once more. Each turn of the corridor filled Caramel Arrow with unease, but after each empty room, she felt less anxious. From the windows, they could see the bustle of cookies working outside. In the lower courtyard, they exchanged greetings, bows, and items before picking up their carts and heading for the capital’s village. Citizens who worked in the citadel lived nearby, as did Caramel Arrow’s family. She was lucky to grow up with the glow of purple fires and the wind singing through the stacked houses, laughter on the streets and readily available food. She hadn’t been back home in a long time.

She wondered momentarily where Affogato was from, but paused to realise he wasn’t looking out the window. He stood further away from her, watching the corridor they had just arrived from. With a watchful eye but a frown on his face, he clearly scanned the room. Was he cautious about other people? Or planning out an escape route? After he’d promised to help her? They began to walk again, but his gaze continued to drift behind them.

Caramel Arrow held onto his wrist, catching his attention suddenly. It felt less fragile than it looked.

“What are you doing?” He tried to pull his hand away, but her grip held fast. Her pace quickened, and he stumbled to match her stride.

“I don’t trust you not to run off.” She guided them down shallow stairs to a lower floor. “Must you question everything?” Before he could respond, two cooks almost collided with them. They glanced between Caramel Arrow and the other man before bowing and whispering apologies to her. She smiled pleasantly and let the cookies go on their way.

Affogato huffed and readjusted their hands. Caramel Arrow began to argue, but he spoke louder: “At least hold my hand, it’s less humiliating.”

With their palms pressed against each other’s and she pulled him along again towards the kitchens.

✦ 

Caramel Arrow never left his side as he gathered ingredients from the dimly lit pantries. She’d lit two oil lamps, enough to make out the foods set across the counter. A couple of jellies, a milk bucket, and of course, some of their precious cacao.

“Oh, don’t look at it like that. Surely the king is allowed the healthiest produce of her kingdom?”

“What are we making?”

“You can’t tell?” He smiled, “We’re lucky the beans have fermented already. Put them in an oven.” He tried to lift the milk bucket from the counter but winced, clutching his wound again.

“Why don’t you start the fires?” Caramel Arrow suggested. He flushed, embarrassed. 

They worked quietly in the dark kitchen. She never let him out of sight while they roasted the cacao and heated the milk. When he began crushing the cacao, she made him work over the unlit stove beside her, lest he add anything extra to their… soup. He laughed at her and told her to melt the jellies into the milk. 

When finally everything was mixed and dissolved, they had a large pot of sweet milky chocolate. Affogato retrieved two bowls, and Caramel Arrow insisted on pouring the servings. The fire continued to crackle below the hot stove.

Affogato leaned back next to the stove, warming himself, and toasted his bowl, “Go on.”

“You first,” Caramel Arrow said, standing opposite him, leaning against the inner palace’s stone walls.

“Typical,” he rolled his eyes again and drank without hesitating. He sighed in triumph.

She watched him for a moment before raising the bowl to her lips slowly. The steam alone settled the muscles across her face before she took a small sip. Affogato watched, catlike, as she took another, larger sip. Warmth and sweetness flooded her. She closed her eyes and drank the rest of it down. As soon as the bowl was empty, she made for the pot again. Affogato sipped his first serving and took in the sight of the first watcher wiping her chin with her sleeve while eagerly filling her bowl to the brim.

He simpered, “I thought you’d like it.”

She said nothing as she continued to drink. Eventually, Affogato had a second serving and Caramel Arrow a third. The light dulled as the flames shrank away without their refeeding. Caramel Arrow may as well have been asleep if not for the occasional tilt of her bowl as she rested lazily against the counter.

“How’s this for a break?’ Affogato offered.

“It’s good,” she said quietly. Affogato hummed and shifted towards the pot again. With the noise of movement, she stirred and stood to attention quickly. What was left in her bowl rocked near the brim. He looked over his shoulder to survey the empty kitchen. 

Now, Caramel Arrow flushed, “I didn’t know you knew how to… make such luxuries.”

“Luxuries?” He guffawed. When she watched blankly, he frowned,  “It’s hot chocolate, dear.”

She looked at the bowl in her hands, and they fell into awkward silence. They used to be of near equal rank, but he made her sound unclassy. Just because they live in the castle doesn’t mean their lives were all so prosperous. She’d spent most of her life outside on that wall, and she was their highest-ranking officer!

“I’ve always worked at providing delights for cookies.” He offered her the ladle. “A business not so appreciated in this kingdom.”

“Well, I appreciate this,” she poured another bowl.

“Good.”

✦ 

“...in the tropics, it's so hot that they can’t store jellies for more than a few hours? They have to keep them in water or else they’ll all melt!”

Affogato’s laughs grew louder as the night grew stiller. Caramel Arrow couldn’t help but smile as he regaled her with stories of far-off lands.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate hot chocolate.”

“Can you imagine?” His gaze fell beyond her, lost in thought. “Oh, but I’d love to go there someday. When I escape this wretched kingdom, I’ll go somewhere warm. I don’t ever want to see snow again.”

She couldn’t fathom never seeing snow again. Like never seeing the clouds, the distant mountains, the swathes of trees, or the spots of busy cookies. Snow meant home. Did he really hate their home so much? Was it because they all hated him? He’d always stood out, though, well before his betrayal. No response formed on her tongue, but a figure appeared in the doorway. The messenger burst into the kitchen, disrupting the quiet. 

“Caramel Arrow! Your Highness!” He separated each sentence with a breath. “An urgent letter has arrived from the king! In your office, sir.”

“We’ll head there right away.” She had already dropped her bowl into the washing bucket and was blowing out the lamps. She paced out the kitchen before breaking into a run. The messenger was left behind, but Affogato followed closely behind. Finally! Was it news of his return? The date at least? She needed to know how long she’d bear this position.

They arrived in the garrison and slowed near the commanders’ empty room. Affogato’s face flickered as he realised he was to be locked up again. It was like he’d forgotten he was a prisoner. Like he’d forgotten his current place and all that he’d done to get here. She didn’t feel bad, right? Looking at his dejected face? She opened the door for him. 

“And I thought I was invited along,” he mocked.

“Don’t push it. I've given you enough leeway for one night.” He stepped into the room but turned before she could close the door behind him.

“Well, I must say I've enjoyed it. Hm?” He smiled, all shark teeth. 

“Sure,” she lightly pushed him back into his cell and closed the door, not a second to spare. While she fiddled with the keys, he spoke from the other side:

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Caramel.”

Why did he always sound so mocking?

Notes:

thanks, that felt like a disaster.
a disaster with lots of commas...,,,,
i only get to write this on my phone on the bus to uni so there are inconsistencies abound!

thoughts on the piece: snowy cookie isn't even an oc i just needed a doctor character/also i initially wrote a descriptive surgery but it was very gross and i want to keep the rating teen/also you may have noticed i don't write "cookie" for the other characters so lets just pretend its an honorific or don't think to hard about it/Caramelow having mood swings? am i inconsistent or is she just a girl/ cookies don't have monthly cycles/or sexes/speaking of, does anyone know how dark choco was born/not related to this fic!

ok let me know what you think so far!

also I made a tumblr teehee:
https://www.tumblr.com/hyper-dreamer?source=share