Chapter Text
The Salt of Solidarity was silent as the Fount of Knowledge restated the very colorful language the Bringer of Happiness had told him to say. Even with the helmet, he can tell the Salt of Solidarity was uncomfortable at the words coming out of his mouth because he was incredibly stiff, more so than he usually his. On the Knights side stands the King of the Silver Kingdom, Elder Faerie Cookie. His face looks neutral, but the Fount swears he can see a twitch in his lips after every insult the Fount says to the Knight
“—she also said that you are an armor-wearing loser whose only appealing quality is that you own a horse.” He finally lists them all blankly, relieved to have memorized each. Insult. And. Swear.
The garden’s air is now a tad suffocating as the Salt registers the words. Said Knight stands awkwardly as he begins to murmur to himself.
“…oh Almighty she’s so right—“
“That was…enlightening.” the Faerie interjects as the Knight continues mumbling his grievances to himself. Most of which the Fount tried to ignore as he tries to get a good look at the Faerie King.
The Fount has never truly seen the mysterious ruler of the Silver Kingdom, even when he has made small and abrupt visits to the kingdom to investigate the culture and libraries. Only glimpses were made, but not enough to gather the full picture of the presence the Faerie King encapsulated. He could now say that he had the honor to meet the faerie, even though he had to literally force his way through the kingdom's Silver Veil.
As always, It took plenty of effort to find the Faerie Kingdom, the silvery gates are quite evasive with the help of the pale pine surrounding them, and each time he somehow makes it through, he’s always treated strangely. Like the trees are angry with him about something.
The Fount understands that it probably is not respectable to ‘break in’ to the Faerie Kingdom when he hasn’t been asked, but you can’t blame a cookie for being curious. Especially since the Salt of Solidarity and his horse seemed to have secretly fled to this kingdom without finding it too important to explain it to his legions.
Speaking of that ferocious beast…
“Your horse almost killed me at the gates by the way, nearly bit my head off. “ he says plainly to the Knight, who in turn seems to finally arise from his grumbling and tilts his head to side as if to give the Fount a ‘are you for real’ look.
The Knight scoffs and makes a motion with his head to show he’s rolling his eyes. “Please, I’m sure Nox meant well. He wouldn’t hurt a sugarfly.” The Knight adds the last bit fondly because he loves that horse. Despite it being a menace to society.
“ ‘He wouldn’t hurt a sugar fly’ mememeh.” The Fount lifts his voice to hit a higher tone to mock the Knight. Said knight barely reacts, but he seems amused. “That horse would have added another kill on its list if it wasn’t for a faerie cookie stopping him from ramming into me.”
The Knight hums at this. “Which faerie cookie was it?”
The Fount nearly remarks, ‘Why does that matter?’ but then he thinks about it and he actually did know the cookie that saved him. She would always try to talk to him every time he snuck in the kingdom, asking about the random trinkets of the world. He grew quite fond of her curiosity, so he decided to learn her name.“…Sugarfly Cookie.”
“See,” the Knight stays calm as ever as he nods at the name, but the Fount knows he’s laughing at him underneath that helmet."Wouldn’t hurt a sugarfly.”
The Fount makes a sound of frustration, and he probably would have jumped at the Knight and tackled him if Elder Faerie didn’t interrupt them.
“Sorry to get in the way of your…” the faerie looks between the calm Knight and Fount, currently planning his murder.
“…conversation. But I would like to know the purpose of your visit, Fount of Knowledge.”
The Fount, hearing his name, realizes that he probably looks very frazzled and unprofessional at the moment. He attempts to calm down his hair and brushes away any wrinkles on his robe. “Oh yes. Sorry. It was not my intention to intrude on you, but I needed to confer with the Salt of Solidarity, and he happened to be in your kingdom.
Elder Fartie nods at his information. “I figured. Still, this is not the first time you've snuck into this kingdom unannounced, so I had to be sure.”
The Fount lets out a nervous laugh. The Faerie doesn’t seem to be angry with him at his sudden arrivals, but his gaze seems to pin the Fount in his spot nonetheless.
It’s here the Salt decides to chime in, but not in the way the Fount would have wanted.“You sneak into the Faerie Kingdom?”
“Is that really important right now?” Tries to dissuade the topic slightly, but the Salt doesn’t notice and tries to ask more about it. Thankfully, the Faerie King offers another idea.
“I don’t wish to intrude on a Virtue meeting, I’ll leave so you can have your privacy.”
The Fount releases a heavy sigh, and his shoulders, which he didn’t know were knit together before, slouch. He’s grateful for the faerie king’s consideration despite the two never speaking before now.
He won’t mind talking with the Salt of Solidarity in this lovely garden. There’s so many new species of plants that the Fount has never seen before, and it’s beginning to make the Founts mind buzz with new information and discovery. From the grass to the flowers, and especially that…tree.
The tree catches the Fount eyes a lot longer than expected. At first glance, the silver bark is just like every other tree that makes up the tall and winding forest around him, albeit it being a little bigger than normal. Yet, the Fount feels a rushing wave of Deja Vu because he swears has seen this tree before.
Despite never traveling this deep into the Faerie Kingdom, this Silver tree is so familiar Beasts ravaging the land. The thought swirling through his head like a storm about to break jam and cookie crumbs scattered like ashes. If he looks at it a bit longer, the Fount feels the answer hiding in the wisps of winds, swallowed down to sound like incomprehensible nonsense compared to the loud thunder encroaching his attention. Perhaps he saw it in a dream?—
“Wait.” His thoughts are interrupted by a stern voice, and his longing gaze on the tree shifts to the speaker, the Salt of Solidarity, who is staring at the Faerie King. “It’s rude enough of us to intrude upon your kingdom, we should be the ones to leave, not you.”
The faerie stares at the Salt for a moment, but he then hesitantly nods, “Understood, I hope you two come to a rightful conclusion to your matter. “And the faerie turns away from them to face the tall tree. With his back turned, the Salt of Solidarity walks over to the Fount of Knowledge and drags him away from the garden before he can even say a word.
The Fount sputters at this, annoyed that the Salt didn’t let him look at the beautiful garden of the Faerie Kingdom. He tells Salt this, in harsh, quick words, but Salt pays no mind to his fumbling as he seems too focused on getting them to a new destination. He doesn’t say anything about how the Knights arm pulling his own not only hurts, but also has the Fount face warm up slightly.
If the Salt of Solidarity even noticed the heat in his face, he thankfully didn’t mention it at all as he tugged the Fount further and further from the Faerie King until they’ve reached an arching bridge, hovering over a dark river. The once quick Knight slows as they make it atop the bridge, until he finally reaches to a full stop.
The Fount is out of breath from the sudden exertion, and he tries to swallow down the loud rasps he makes to focus on the opportunity before him. The Salt is as silent as the wind as he patiently waits for the Fount to gather himself.
“By Allmighty! You didn’t have to tow me across the entire garden! We could have walked, you know.” The Fount seethes out and attempts a glare at the Knight despite his crouched position in an attempt to gain his breath.
The Salt of Solidarity stands awkwardly; at first glance, he seems unmovable to any force that’ll come his way. But the Fount has known his fellow Virtue far longer than anyone can measure. The Knight, just barely, shifts his foot from side to side. A small, yet blaring detail for the Fount.
‘He’s nervous.’ The Fount understands, and the idea of the brave Knight being shifty on something sends alarm bells for the Fount. Especially since the Salt of Solidarity never hid anything from anyone. It wasn’t his motto. If he kept something secret, it would go against his very Soul Jam. So what could the Virtue be hiding?
“…I didn’t take you for breaking and entering.” The Salt states firmly as the Fount is stuck in the whirlwind of his thoughts, and the sudden tone causes the Fount to chuckle because he forgets how his friend can be so prickly.
“A cookie's got to do what a cookie's got to do in pursuit of knowledge.” He remarks with a humorous lift, but Salt doesn’t seem to quite understand it.
“I’m sure the faeries don’t enjoy—“
“Pshawwww if it were that much of an issue, I’m sure the faerie would have told me by now.” The Fount decidedly ignores how the trees seem to shake with rage every time he even comes close to the gates of the Faerie Kingdom. The faeries are kind, but the forest? There’s nothing more cruel than nature.
The Salt of Solidarity just sighs, seemingly already tired from the Founts' antics. The Knight pauses for a moment and moves closer to the fence of the bridge, putting his arms atop it and looking down at rushing waves that swarm below.
The Fount, laughter dying down, decides to join him. From afar, the two would make a hysterical pair. Though the Knight wasn’t as tall as the Herald of Change, he definitely towered the Fount nonetheless. Especially with him crouching over his scepter.
“I’m guessing you did not venture to the Faerie Kingdom to catch the eye of the faerie king.” The Salt finally says as he stares at the water's edge. The Fount nods hesitantly, and the Salt continues. “How’d you even find me?”
The Founts hum in consideration. “Your second in command told me where you’ve been going these last few expeditions.”
The Salt of Solidarity groans and his head falls into his hands, “Is it that obvious? I didn’t even tell her where I was going.”
“I mean you can’t really hide anything from someone so close.” The Fount adds to lighten the Knight’s mood, but it does little effort. The Fount decides to change the approach to the topic instead. “I know you said you were going to invest more time in the Faerie Kingdom, but…”
The Fount lets his words trail, too scared to directly criticize the Knights motives.
“You think I am getting distracted?” The Salt of Solidarity supplies instead, letting his hands fall and pushing his head upward to face the Fount.
The Fount of Knowledge reluctantly nods. “Not to suggest anything, but I haven’t heard or seen you for decades. I’m a little worried.”
Of all things, that somehow brings a little snort out of the Knight, he shakes his head at the suggestion. “I know it may seem like I'm dilly dallying and pushing away my responsibilities,” the Salt of Solidarity clarifies, “but I have a duty here. And I want to see it accomplished.”
The Fount considers his words, and he’s back to the thought before. What could the Salt of Solidarity be doing? He knows whatever it is has something to do with the Faerie Kingdom, but he doesn’t understand why specifically it needs to happen here.
“May I have the right to learn what you’ve been up to these last few decades, fellow Virtue.” The Fount states his question, of course, because he expects an answer from his friend. After all, he’s been left in the dark for years.The Salt of Solidarity stares at him for a long time, most likely thinking up an answer for the Fount. Finally lifts his head slightly as if in motion of him about to speak and says—
“No.”
And the Fount tries to take in the words, but he finds them to be much shorter and crueler than nothing else.
“N-No??” The Fount sputters out, eyes blown wide at the Salts direct response. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am.” The Knight replies calmly despite the Founts' sudden surprise. “I don’t want to concern yourself, or the Virtues, with it at the moment.” The Knight, after saying that, looks at Fount, and decides to take a step back. Right fully so. Because the Fount. Fumes.
Rage begins to bubble underneath his dough. He’s sure his facial features don’t look kind but he could care less because who does that?! Who doesn’t inform anyone of a concerning situation? If an issue was so much as a concern to the Salt of Solidarity, shouldn’t he and the other Virtues be informed of such an issue? What type of cookie goes around lying to his friends cause he doesn’t want to involve them in—
Oh.
Oh shit.
He is that cookie, isn’t he? Annoyed at the fact that Salt isn’t telling him issues when he’s been doing the exact same thing to the rest of the Virtues. There’s no wonder why Mystic Flour Cookie was worried about him, why the Herald of Change was so nosy, why the Bringer of Happiness was so angry. He’s been snubbing them off because he didn’t want to involve them in something he thought he could fix on his own.
Yet here he is, reacting the same way towards the Salt because he’s not answering a small question. He’s hypocritical. A foolish cookie that thinks that not telling his friends is beneficial, when it’s only causing worry. The realization nearly made him calm down and continue to have a comfortable conversation with his friend about the strange happenings in their kingdoms. Perhaps even speak on his visions if prompted.
Key word: nearly.
“…Does Elder Faerie know about this issue?” He feels the question rises out of his mouth before he can think about it, but the silence from the Salt of Solidarity is more than enough for the once quenched anger to burn.
Noticing that the Fount has caught on, Salt attempts to make reason. “Well—“
The Fount does not let him even attempt to justify himself as he “You told the Faerie King of this problem, and not another Virtues?” The Fount manages to bite out, words barely congealed with rage at the idea.
“I didn’t know if I could trust—“
“And yet you trust the faerie?!” The Fount shouts out, his eyes contorting to slits and mouth shaping into a cruel snarl. “You barely know him for…for how long?”
“Eight decades—“
“Eight decades!” He repeats the notion with a flourish of his hands in the air, shocked at the short time period. He then point a finger into the Knights chest. “I’ve known you since you were baked, and yet you trust him more than me?”
“…”
“I understand not telling anyone.” The Fount adds, to true to calm his rage, but it doesn’t work because he’s back to insults. “But to include someone you barely even know? I thought better of you, Salt. I didn’t think you were a moron.”
“I at least felt the need to ask for help.” The Salt attempts to argue back, the only signs of the Knight's discomfort from the way he stands stock still despite being in an argument. “From what I can tell, you wouldn’t even let yourself do that.”
And the Fount has had enough at the sudden jab, enough so that he snaps, “You call yourself a Virtue? You don’t even deserve that title!” A deep part of his mind tells him to stop here, let his speech fall into his usual polite lies, and apologize for his sudden tone.
But for the first time a while? He wants to be honest.
“You call yourself the Holder of Solidarity, but you were the one who put an end to the Virtue meetings. It was you who ended that connection between everyone!” He points out clearly, and he can tell he’s struck a nerve because the Knight steps back further as if he’s been slapped. But the Fount does not stop. “That does not show your support for Solidarity. It shows that your values have faded like your honor. You seem to have abandoned us, Salt.”
The two don’t say anything to each other for a minute. Both are trying to gather their thoughts together. It’s not until he sees the Salt of Solidarity try to avoid his stubborn gaze that he realizes he might’ve said something wrong.
“I’m sorry if I shouted at you. I’m just…” the Fount tries to find an accurate word for his emotions, but he doesn’t…
“…I don’t mean to insult you.” He decides to carry the conversation on instead. He’ll focus on his emotions later. “But you seem to be only focusing on yourself, the future. You look at us, Virtues, as if we are of the past, but we are still in the present.”
The Knight makes a noticeable scoff, “You only want to talk about my issues when you’re blatantly ignoring your own?” The Salt suggests, which, fair. He has a point.
“I do have issues, and it’s wrong of me to only point out your own instead of mine.” He answered steadily, letting the calm wash over him. “But my mission today was not to let that get in the way. I needed to identify what has caused your sudden isolation and silence.”
The Salt doesn’t look at him for a long time. But he nods, a firm one that tells the Fount that he understands.“…I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
They let the quiet ring in the air around them. The Knight still looks away, upward to look at the silver trees surrounding them. The Fount, on the other hand, decides to look at the river below the bridge to help clean his thoughts.
The dark water is a striking contrast compared to the bright and silvery light of the kingdom. The waves barely made a splash despite running speedily through the banks. It’s relaxing, and he’s sure he would get trapped in a trance if he stared at the endless abyss any longer.
But he can’t seem to let his eyes drift away. If he looks closely, he can make out the dark reflection of himself staring emptily back at him. Funnily enough, it looks like an entirely different person.
He’s changed, that’s for sure.
Maybe he hasn’t looked in a mirror in a long time, but the cookie he’s looking at is not him, or at least is not who he is supposed to be.
(Is it the blank eyes that stare at him? The ever-present frown is etched on when he’s not laughing? Whatever that thing is in the water, it’s not him, and he hopes it can leave.)
“You know, I’ve always liked you.” The Fount decides to say, tearing his eyes away from the water's edge because he’s had enough. He is going to do this before his nerves decide to swallow him whole like the Witches when they partake in a lovely meal of cookies.
“Well, obviously, we’re friends. I like you too.” The Knight replies simply, which, causes the Fount to silently groan because he forgets how dense and oblivious the Knight can be in terms of understanding affection. How does Elder Faerie deal with it?
“Allmighty- do you remember that time when we got trapped in that cave in the Great Barren?”
The Knight looks off in the distance as if to think until he laughs at the fond memory. The sound rings in the Fount’s ears, sending his stomach into weird loops. “Of course! It’s one of my favorite memories of all the Virtues.”
‘Now isn’t that sweet?’ If the Fount wasn’t smitten, he’d be by now.
‘The two happened to run into each other in the Great Barren one day. The Fount didn’t have the Spire then, only walking around the plains till he found something interesting. Witches, how he missed those times. Just wandering wherever, not a care in the world about what people thought of him.
The Knight, on the other hand, had begun to fix up the Grand Barren, removing the cake monsters and giving cookies a new home. But the Barren was still a landscape of sorrow, and you had to be careful of where you tread for the ground was very unstable. Except this knowledge wasn’t known until after the two of them stepped on a crooked rock and they both fell into a large cave, the entrance closing up with sudden debris at their sudden descent.
They were there for a long time.
The Fount of Knowledge’s magic was still finicky back then, and the Salt of Solidarity didn’t have too many allies to help them. They had no aid to get out, and no means to try because they didn’t have countless cookies bargaining for their aid. So all they could do was talk. Well more accurately, the Fount talked while the Salt dutifully listened.
To this day, the Fount doesn’t truly remember what he was talking about, incomprehensible rambles about different topics. But he did remember how each time he dragged into the next topic, the Salt would always pay attention, and would always pipe in when asked a question.
And the Fount…never felt more appreciated.
Eventually, someone found them. He can’t remember who, but he can still envision the blinding light that began to peek through the caves opening as rubble was removed. The Salt of Solidarity rose up first, and offered his hand to him. The Fount did not hesitate to grab ahold of it and the Knight pulled him to his feet.
But before the Fount could step away, the Knight said something that stuck with the Fount to this very moment.
“You’re good company, you know.” The knight says simply, as if it most truthful statement in the world.
The Fount lets out a small laugh. “Obviously. But you seem the type to prefer the quiet.”
The Salt of Solidairty nods, “I do. But the way you speak of any topic, the joy you hold for your passion.” The Salt pauses to try to find the word, and he stares at the Fount in face thoughtfully. “I think I’d find anything you say captivating.”
And the Fount felt his soul swoon.
“…I think I fell in love with you that day.” He just lets the words slip out, smooth as silk, yet rigid as ice as they slide out of his mouth, into the ears of the Knight. The Knight doesn’t seem to fully understand the phrase that he just heard so he stands there for a moment till it finally clicks.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
It’s quiet for a minute as the Salt of Solidarity doll tries to process the words thoroughly. “I’m flattered, but I—“
“I know.” The Founts sigh out, already done with the personal conversation, “I’ve known for a very long time.”
The Salt of Solidarity stares at him quietly, considering his words, “Then why even tell me?”
The Fount meets his gaze, and if he looks close enough, he can see the shape of the Knight’s eyes, creasing with question and worry. Something in the Founts soul melts at the look because how can someone look at him with such care, yet their heart belongs to someone else? it’s sickening
“I think I owed you a kind truth.” And the Fount is shocked at the sudden words that leave his mouth. “I think it’s the last one I’ll ever say.”
The Salt of Solidarity doesn’t respond to that, and the Fount doesn’t acknowledge it either. The words pass through their minds as if the conversation never even happened.
“Well, I think I overstayed my welcome.” The Fount jokes as he tries to change the topic. “I’ll leave to finish your business with the faerie.” The Salt of Solidarity shies away from the mention, and if the Salt didn’t have a helmet, the Fount is sure he’d be blushing.
“Till we meet again.” The Knight says as gathers himself together and he bows his head toward the Fount, and in turn he nods at the Knight’s gesture.
“Till.” He can’t help but feel that very word is also a lie, the addition to a list of deceit that will soon exceed his own lifetime. He turns away from Salt the last time they’ll see each other as friends and begins to finally walk back home. To his Spire. A sense of comfort fills his Soul Jam as he begins to walk, relief at the idea that he’s done all he could. The Knight watches him as he goes, and the Fount can’t help but feel that whatever mysterious plans the Knight has, they’ll succeed.
Everything is going to be just fine.