Chapter Text
No one had seen Crunchy Chip in months.
This wasn't necessarily an unusual occurrence as the wolf commander would be out patrolling the kingdom's borders for weeks at a time, but this was alarming. He never returned back to the citadel even after the rest of the wolf riders did, and what was even more startling was the fact they couldn't find him, nor half the pack.
The other riders explained that their leader had been becoming distracted and sick before disappearing entirely one night. When they woke up from their camping patrol Crunchy Chip, along with the original members of his pack, were gone without a trace. That had been roughly four months ago now, and yet still nothing had been found of the cookie, nor his family. The king as well as the First Watcher were the most distraught, and the fear of the worst was creeping ever closer with each passing snowstorm.
They knew, as well as the denizens, that Crunchy Chip was no ordinary cookie. He was just as stubborn and loud as he was tactical and resourceful. He grew up in the mountains with nothing more than the wolves, feral until taken in by the king. A simple winter's heavy would not take him out so easily, and besides that he had his fellow cream wolves. What neither could understand was the sudden departure with no announcement. He did not even inform his formation, which was deathly unheard of. The captain was a deeply loyal individual, and the fact this even occurred was truly worrisome.
A few theories were toyed with after thoroughly speaking with the other border guards. Either Crunchy Chip had been taken during the night, whether from a winter's beast or something unknown was unsure, or he had simply...defected. Still, none of those conclusions had fit with what they knew of the man. Crunchy could have easily defended himself, Witches knew his body count, and even then his wolves would have alerted the others. This was a tactical retreat; a pull back made in silence.
Word of the disappearance of their commander spread to the other ancients after roughly a month. The Dark Cacaoian’s initial searches turned up nothing, and worry had flowed into the scribbles of pen to parchment. It was well known since the first events of The Council of Heroes that the king and his furry warrior were close. Crunchy Chip was as much of a son to the king as Caramel Arrow was a daughter. The unannounced departure of Chip had caused a spiral between the two, and three weeks of relentless searching found nothing.
Warriors of the Dark Cacao Kingdom were trained into the perfect army, coming and going with no remains. They were taught to be able to tear down campsites in mere minutes if needed, and be able to cover their tracks and leave no scent behind. So it was either that Crunchy Chip had been extra careful to cover his trail....or he's hunkered down somewhere where no one could find him.
The rumors of sickness coming from the man before his vanishment was enough of a brow raiser, and was by far their biggest lead. The other riders mentioned he couldn't keep much down and would get fatigued more easily, and Carmel Arrow worried that maybe Crunchy left with his pack to isolate himself. It was something that happened in the past, times where they found him held up in strange nooks with a fever and a canine.
There was also one other factor that made this more pressing.
Word had reached the Hollyberry Kingdom first, and the lengthy letter delivered to the Queen Mother was troublesome for one reason alone. It was not addressed solely to her, but her knight guard as well.
The news of Crunchy Chip Cookie's lacking presence was a gut punch to the stoic fighter, and it explained the zero responses he'd received from his weekly letters. The impact of the text was visible on his face; the way his expression broke its normality to something of shocked horror. Wilberry was a part of the shield wielding ancient’s family as much as Crunchy was to her friend’s, and the hand she placed on the armored back made the warrior flinch.
The message was dire it seemed, and with the pressing matter that Crunchy Chip could be ill or even dying; the response was clear as day.
They both packed for a harsh journey much like they had for Dragon's Valley; heavy furred gear switched from dragon scale armor. Travel by sea was off the table as the ticking of time, and while their kingdoms were much closer than the rest, the land of lava and mountains of snow still stood in the way. It would take ages to make it there…
That was, however, if they didn’t have the aid of a rather sarcastic reddish green dragon. Pitaya Dragon's assistance flew them over the blazing skies of Dragon's Valley in a matter of days, but they would venture no further as the cold was not kind to their tropical scales.
The flight was smooth despite how much back and forth happened between the awakened ancient and her dragon companion, but the third of their party was stewing in heavy silence. Wildberry had barely spoken since they had been given a ride; his back pressed to one of the large hiking bags they brought along.
His leg had bounced with unfiltered anxiety the entirety of their time soaring over tropical jungles and cinnamon gulches. Crunchy Chip was in danger, missing even. That was a far worse fate it seemed, as they did not even know his location or status. His hand clenched inside his gauntlet, and he was only pulled from his thoughts as the air twinged with cold and their height slowly dropped.
Hollyberry thanked the dragon as they climbed for their back with everything they brought; armor being laced with thick coats and warm gloves. The dragon hissed out an eye rolling quip before leaving them be, disappearing into the snow fall sky.
"He will be alright," Hollyberry said as they hiked the trail to the citadel, glancing at her adopted child, "I've met that boyfriend of yours plenty of times to know he can't be taken down so easily."
"That's what worries me." Wildberry replied, monotone voice leaking with worry, "Crunchy Chip Cookie is a headstrong and somewhat naïve individual, and while he is outward with his emotions...He is not one to show weakness. He will push himself even when it is unwise."
"That boy really has you stir crazy, hmm?" She sent him a smile, and Wild looked away.
"He is...my everything," The knight held his gauntlet to his chest, "and while it took me until the events of Beast Yeast to solidify my advances...I do not regret our relationship."
"....I'm happy you found someone who compliments you so openly," It was a genuine remark; one of motherly affection, "and I am proud of you for fighting for your love. Don't think I haven't seen the good he's done for you since you started courting."
"Queen Mother...."
"Now, now don't be shy about it!" She chuckled, "We live in the land of romance and passion! I know you’d much rather your affections be held for private eyes, but I've seen that softness he brings out. The way you don't hold so much on your shoulders. It's nice."
"He does bring a rather...embarrassing side of myself out." Wildberry admitted shyly which caused the woman to laugh heartily.
"Lady Hollyberry!" The cry out was of a familiar voice, and both turned from their path to find the First Watcher approaching quickly. Caramel Arrow stopped mere steps from them, "You've arrived; I feared you wouldn’t come until the storm had started."
Behind her two more watchers had followed, shafted weapons held in their hands. There was a visible tiredness to the woman's eyes, and her refined posture was lacking. It was certainly from the never ending search for her kin; her eye bags only solidified that.
"We came as soon as we could," Hollyberry gave a reassuring smile, "I only wish we would have made it sooner."
"Caramel Arrow Cookie," One of the warriors spoke, urgency clear, "We must make haste back to the wall before the blizzard bellows again." She gave them a nod before turning back to the queen.
"Please, follow me and keep close. While I do not doubt your abilities; the snow is not kind to outsiders." The trudge back to the citadel was long and cold but not silent. The archer spoke about the current status of the situation, all the while sparing glances to the quiet knight.
She informed them nothing had changed since the letter; all their efforts came with minimum results. There were no tracks nor scent trails, almost as if he was whisked away by the snowfall.
The news was more crushing to the berry knight, and the metal of his gauntlet groaned as he clenched the fist inside. They had arrived as sunset fell, and were greeted with the open arms and heavy heart of the king.
Age fell upon the chocolate doughed face of Dark Cacao, countless sleepless nights pulling the spine down. His tone was laced with exhaustion; he had come back from another search only hours before. It reminded Hollyberry too much of the day Dark Choco had been banished, and the hug she pulled the man into was not pushed away. They spoke about the currentancy; all the while Wildberry still kept silent.
"My son's courtship," The knight raised his eyes to the king, "I am happy that you have joined our search, and I hope with your help we can locate him."
"Yes, King Dark Cacao Cookie," He bowed his head in respect, "I will not let you down, for his sake as well as yours."
"And yours as well." Holly added, "This is not a light subject for you either, Wildberry Cookie." Her guardian nodded; a flicker of heartbreak showing for only a moment.
"I have prepared rooms for both of you during your stay," The king said, "Well, for you I have my friend, but for your knight I thought it would be more comforting if he stayed somewhere familiar." Wildberry raised a curious brow, "Caramel Arrow, please take our guest to Crunchy Chip’s quarters."
The archer gave a bow before leading the cookie. The way was silent, tension too massive to speak freely in the halls. Black and purple and white decorated the dim passageways, eerie purple flames lighting what the darkness tried to devour.
"Are..we the only ones to arrive?" Wildberry spoke quietly.
"The first, yes." Caramel Arrow's ponytail swayed as she led the way, "Pure Vanilla Cookie cannot make it himself, but is sending Black Raisin Cookie. Though, being so far away may take a week or two. Golden Cheese Cookie is unable to help at all, though I do not blame her."
The mention of the crow joined cookie brought the memory of his visit during the rise of the cake tower, and his chest ached when he thought of the third that was no longer there. His mourning must have been apparent because Caramel stopped in front of a familiar sliding door, a bit more scuffed than the rest. It was the same door Crunchy had excitedly slammed open when Wildberry had visited during that mission, yet it was only cold behind.
She stood facing the door, yet made no move to open it. It was quiet, and her shoulder hunched slightly.
"Caramel Arrow Cookie?" His own words were strained, and he stumbled back a step as he was embraced. The winding of arms around his thick torso was foreign and frankly unwanted at that moment. Wildberry let very few touch him let alone something like a hug, but the pessimism died off as he heard her muffled sobs.
His expression faltered, and he hugged her back if not a bit weaker so as not to crush her. His gloved hand rested at her back while the other cradled behind her hair. His head bowed a bit; his own sorrow bubbling. Wild knew that such outward emotions were uncommon for the Dark Cacaoians, but he could say the same about the tears that tried to spill down his cheek.
"I-I’m so worried about him!" She sobbed against the coat he still dawned; her fingers digging into the fabric as the back, "He's never done anything like this before, and..." The words trailed off as she lowered her face away, and Wildberry swallowed thickly.
"I am worried about him as well," He kept it level even as his heart crumbled a little further, "but I will stop at nothing until we find him. I will tear these mountains apart until my dough becomes one with the snow." Mulberry met her dark eyes when she looked up at him, "We will not fail him."
Caramel Arrow suppressed her sniffles and nodded, whispering a small apology as she took a step back. Wildberry shook his head, using his unarmed hand to wipe his eyes.
"I'll...be right down the hall if you need anything."
"Thank you." He spoke before watching her go, and with a moment of preparedness, slid the door back and entered the room.
It looked the same as it did the few times he'd been in it before, yet the loving warmth was vacant. Claw marks still snuffed the choco log floors and wolf hair still clung to every surface, but it held no smell of fudge or ice cream. Dimness cloaked the space from the unlit candle at the deskside, and the bed was messily unmade as usual.
Each step he took further inside made the cavity of his stomach twist, and the shifting of the panel door closed made the small room feel like an ever consuming pit. Wildberry bit his emotions back as he dropped his bag to the floor as well as his gauntlet, uncaring at the clatter that rang out.
The bed still sat nestled in the corner, sheets messy like they'd been left weeks before. A dresser sat at the opposite side, bits of shirt sleeves and socks peeking and draping from horrible storage. Finally a desk sat before a window; the curtains currently pulled closed. Wildberry felt around for a match before striking up the candle encased in glass that sat on the desk. It illuminated the space like a tender torch, bringing the barest of life back into a space so vacant of any.
The table top was cluttered at the edges, all unused stuff shoved out of the way in haste. That wasn't unusual per say, but the haft crumbled and scribbled papers were.
His mulberry eyes filtered through the ripped scraps and crumbled notes that were tossed to the side without care. Unfurling them only revealed unwritten scripts too shaky and frustrated to be legible. Wildberry knew first hand how abhorrent his lover's handwriting was, but this was much more erratic. He sighed before setting the papers back down and settling on the bed; the poor mattress wheezing under so much weight. His snow boots came off one after the other before his coat and later his armor. In nothing more than long johns and a long sleeve sweater he let his back hit the bedding. It was small, made for the shortest man this side of the mountains, and his shoulders barely peeked over the edge.
They always made it work when he had visited; the wolf commander curled up against his body while they slept. Those damned tears crawled out from his ducts at the mere thought of the emptiness in his arms, and he had no ambition to blink them away. Drops creased his cheeks as they welled with silent pain, and he wept himself into slumber.