Blog for my Cookie Run Fae!AU | will mainly be used for updates and answering questions but might make some art who knows | Your Pseudo-Seanchaí is here!
This is the official blog of my Cookie Run: Kingdom Fae!AU. Here you will find my fics and extra thoughts, as well as a whole bunch of Irish Myth!
You will find updates, possible memes, and occasionally some art, but I can't make promises since I'm not very skilled at digital. Love answering questions too; anything from my current worldbuilding to Irish Myth, I am here for anything! So far I only have the ShadowVanilla ship in here, but I might come around to others if anyone is interested.
Please note that both stories are Not Rated for depictions of injury and danger. Nothing too graphic, but these are not super happy tales, please keep that in mind.
Current Stories:
The Glamour of Fae (Not Rated)-
To have a close encounter with a Fae is to become burdened with the possibility of great prosperity or unbearable loss. One must not anger nor attract the attention of an Aos Sí, for no one can predict the irreversible damages such a relationship could bring. A mere misstep can cause the destruction of a farmer's livelihood, a single misinterpreted gesture could sign away a maiden's soul. An eternal life of magic and festivities, at the cost of one's free will.
Unbeknownst to a lonely shepherd, a beast of unimaginable power has him in his sights. A dance of deceit and truth will take center stage, and neither partner will be ready for curtain call.
The King of Beltane (Not Rated)-
The Beltane Festival is celebrated every first full moon in May to mark the turning of spring into summer. Crops and cattle are blessed, flowers are strewn over every head, and harvest sacrifices are made to appease the Fae, the Aos Sí. The Maypole Dance is one of the most famous traditions. Opponents test who can dance the longest and win the blessings of the Fae. The local shepherd has participated many times, yet he has consistently failed to win.
One fateful Beltane morning, the Amadán Dorcha, the Dark Fool, demands for more than a harvest sacrifice. At the same time, the shepherd struggles to dance on a narrow ribbon between freedom and loneliness.
Do you Hear Their Call? (Mature) -
A raid gone wrong sends a trio of redeemed deceivers through the dark woods, grasping at the flowing hourglass of time to take back precious seconds. Crumbs and jam lay in their wake as one teeters between life and oblivion. Their healer is still missing, and they do not have time to mourn.
While time quickly drains from his hands, Shadow Milk reaches for life, desperately calling to whatever force would hear his prayer. Something calls back to him, offering him the only peace it knows.
Don't rush the chapter! Take your time!!! Also even if if was rushed I feel like it would still be very good, your writing style is so whimsical and interesting it always hooks me in to the story.
Thank you Anon! I took your advice, and I hope this chapter was everything you hoped for. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you, I really threw myself into this chapter. The good news it, I'll have a drawing for everyone soon!
Thank you so so much for your patience with me these past couple of months! Chapter 9 of King of Beltane - Samhain Part 3 is out!
This also comes with the announcement that I will be taking a longer hiatus from KoB to get more of the other stories I have had planned done. Not only do I need to get back to Glamour of the Fae, but I also want to take a crack at my Sage of Truth and Truthless Recluse fic idea.
I'm not giving up on KoB, but I need a little bit of a breather before I jump back in. Thank you so much to those who have stayed, I appreciate every single one of you for giving my fic a chance!
Heyyy!!! It's been a while lol and I know you were saying that you were not having the greatest time recently on your last Tumblr post so I just wanted to see how you were doing and if you were alright 👍👍👍👍
Heya! It has been a while. I apologize for not being as active as I once was. Rest assured, all is manageable, and nothing super serious has been going on, but life does have a way to keep you on your toes.
I've been recently spreading my writing out to other things outside of my Fae!AUs, which have made the updates between chapters even longer, which has led me to fall into the bad habit of rushing chapters. When I rush chapters, I hate how they turn out, so I rewrite them. If I have to rewrite a chapter, I think I'm a bad writer, which makes me panic that nothing is getting done, and the cycle continues. I've done better to get out of that funk, but sometimes old habits can creep up on me. Hopefully, I can take the new stuff in life in stride and deliver better stories in the future.
To end on a high note, my most recent project in stained glass art is a Salmon of Knowledge tribute, but with the style and colors of the Fount of Knowledge! Still a work in progress, with some slight setbacks, but it has helped me to clear my head and come up with great writing ideas. The finished version should be released after my newest chapter.
Thank you again Anon for your kind words and for reaching out. It really does mean a lot, and I hope you are taking care of yourself as well. May your bonfire be bright this year, and happy late Beltane!
Oh gosh, it's been a while, but I swear I have been doing my best to make this final chapter in the Samhain segment as perfect as possible! Sadly, no drawing for this one, but I got a fun little teaser for you all. I'm hoping to release this in the next couple of days, maybe three to five, depending on how these next couple of days go.
Sorry again for the delay, and I hope you enjoy this little preview. Keep your bonfires bright, my friends!
Samhain. A night in which the spirits of Earthbread who had crumbled that year were raised from their slumber and walked amongst the living. A full moon’s turn as well as a fire festival, during which the magic of the Fae is at its strongest until Beltane restores the magical flames. The picking of last fruits, the hauntings of one’s past, and the greeting of tomorrow are all celebrated on this, the night of a new year.
However, as the crone gives birth to the horned god, and the fires of Samhain herald the ghosts of the past, a strange song travels upon the moonlit roads toward the Otherworld. A call to the crumbled to follow, and celebrate their newfound freedom.
Are you livin’? Are you breathn’?
No one stands in my abode!
Are you restless? Are you witless?
My family's gone and hit the road!
Are you blinkin’? Are you stinkin’?
Why am I no longer breathn’?
Are you ready? Are you steady?
Our time here’s slowly fle-etn’!
The earth had a pulse that rivaled that of an earthquake, the pebbles dancing to a cadence that only nature knew. Even the flowers that were spread across the graveyard began to quiver as the half-buried hound slowly rose on its bony paws.
The moss that creeped over it’s skull stretched and pulled taught. Even the flowers that were still sinched to it’s bones clung to his form and left behind a puff of smog and glamour.
His empty head swayed, resistance meeting his attempts to stand as the chanting grew ever closer.
Can you feel the rhythm of your beating heart now?
It’s been replaced by the stomping crowd!
Do you know what it means when you shake the ground?
There’s nothing to do but head to the mound!
Finally pulling with all his might, the hound wrenched his head from the earth, shaking himself of the debris and moss that had been slowly growing over him since he had been buried. It would have been a lot harder to stand if he had been fully submerged in the breathing soil. So he had to be thankful for that at least.
It was strange to hear his body make noises he was not used to, the clacking of bones and swaying of moss instead of fur, as he stretched and practiced his footing. The simple actions almost made him feel ancient, despite not being that old. Maybe now he understood what his parents meant by getting older.
However, as he turned to look at his new skeletal form, he also caught a glimpse of the two other creatures, much like himself. A small but agile rabbit and a much larger bear are rising from beneath the garden of purple and blue flowers.
The bear was the one with the most amount of moss and vegetation covering her. With her body being larger, nature had more of a draw towards her nutrients and allowed for a quicker development of plant scavangers. Green earthy moss covered nearly her entire muzzle, concealing her teeth and only allowing her eyes to see through the leaves and flowers. Her cowl was covered in lion’s mane mushrooms, long but not as white as it usually would. It had the tiniest bit of red, making it more pink.
The rabbit’s ears even came back, not as dough and sugar, but as morel mushrooms and angel’s trumpet flowers. It was like a canopy of sheet moss was blanketed over his bones and ribs, a mere mimicry of his original fluffy coat. Cushion moss and cracks still covered his face as well, but not enough to dampen his voice.
“Hey there, friends! It’s wonderous to finally see you muzzle to muzzle! Though…it does seem like our task before is now…unatainable.”
“I’m more relieved we don’t have to stay in one place anymore. Samhain couldn’t come soon enough.” The rabbit tried to ruffle himself and pat at his fur, only to realize that his once luxurious grey and dark fur was now replaced with moss and bones.
“I-It was quite scary. To, at one point, be walking home to my cave, only to end up in the ground. I'm sorry I dragged you all down with me, y-you were only trying to help.” The bear slowly snuck up on the two, making the rabbit jump.
“Warn someone before you do that!”
“S-Sorry!” The bear hid her muzzle inside of the patch the cushioned moss that had once been her neck, retracting into her body to hide from the tiny rabbit.
“Hey hey! Why are we fighting? Yeah, we couldn’t help get you home, but we’re free now! Samhain has unwound us from our resting places and now we’re strong enough to travel to the Otherworlds!” The hound bounded around the two, acting quite the opposite of the average docile hound.
“Didn’t you say you were a hound? You’re acting more like a wolf than anything.” The rabbit tilted his head as the bear sniffed the air, testing if she could still smell like they used to.
“You do smell like the village, yet you act so untamed. N-Not that we don’t believe you, it’s just…”
“Of course I’m a hound!” He even rolled over to prove the trick he had learned. “I told you before we crumbled. I go to the village to help the chicken farmer keep his livestock safe. I eat the food he leaves out, and I don’t touch a single feather on those hens.”
“Yet you don’t live with them?” The rabbit tilted his head, a couple pebbles falling out of his socket.
“Well…” The hound finally sat on his haunches, his tail not as lively. “I do come from the forest down south, and my parents are wolves, but I’m a hound! As loyal and brave as any great friend can be, through and through! It’s baked into my very dough! All I’m missing is a name!”
The rabbit sat back on its own haunches, tilting its head at the perplexing thought. “Now that you mention it, despite being the familiar of a druid, I didn’t have a name either. He was always too busy with his coffee magic to really care about those trivial things.”
“A name? I-I never had a name either. It was safer if we didn’t; that way, we didn’t have to worry about the Fae stealing it. Though…it did make it harder to tell my brothers and sisters apart.” The bear looked out from the field as if her family would actually be there. Instead, she found the shepherd mortal's barn, still alive with the bleats of sheep.
“Oh! Let's think of names for ourselves! That way, we can always remember each other from the other bears, rabbits, and hounds. Hmmm.” The hound sat and contemplated his name, something that would finally make him stand out from all the others. “My fur used to be brown and tan, like dough. Nothing much else for flavor, but I’m really, really brave! So, I’ll call myself Gingerbrave!”
The bear thought about it as she batted at her new cowl in fascination. “There…There isn’t a lot to me either. But…I really like strawberries, so…I’ll call myself Strawberry.”
The rabbit thumped his foot on the ground, stewing over the best name he could think of. “I was trained to be a familiar. My druid took me to many places before I went off to find something he had left behind after Beltane ended. Apparently, he was suspicious about the picking of the Beltane King this year and needed evidence from the maypole. Then I met you all and offered to help get Strawberry home. Obviously, I couldn’t make it back, but maybe this can be a new start for me! To be as powerful as I can be, even without him. So, maybe I should honor him with the name of Wizard!”
Drop your saggy dough down and step on the trotters shake,
Say a prayer and raise a toast to your delightful wake, HA!
Kick and cheer and screech and cry, you’re no longer life’s slave
So say adieu and fly from out your wonderful grave, HEY!
“Oh dear, we spent too long in one place.” Wizard started to bound to the side of the garden they once called a grave and sniffed at a flower. “We need to find the procession of the fae; they can guide us to where we need to go. Quickly, before we lose them!”
“B-But…can’t we see our parents first? I’d like to say goodbye before we leave.” The bear looked around, sniffing the air as if the smell was just at the tip of her nose.
The hound looked down at the ground, remembering his own family that had most likely forgotten about him at this point. It had been months, wolves usually stop looking for their lost young after a couple of days, and that’s being generous.
“I’m sure they won’t be so far behind.” The hound tried his best to cheer up his new friend. “Look at it this way, at least you’ll be in the Otherworld ready to greet them when they arrive! You can bring them to all your favorite places and maybe even show them where to find the best food and caves to sleep in! They could even meet us without thinking we’re food or unfriendly!”
It seemed the bear was satiated by this idea, but she still looked out into the wilderness, second thoughts swirling through her mind. The hound could barely hear her whisper, “I guess you’re right. I…wouldn’t want to interrupt their hibernation.”
The hound and the bear sprang after the rabbit, following the jaunt of the music and the tempo it beat into the ground. Every sway and shift was new for them, being far lighter and freer than when they were encased with dough and fur. Their ever-free spirit now willed them to bound and leap higher, longer, and faster than they originally could. The hound could have sworn he could fly if he just jumped high and far enough.
It wasn’t long before they came upon a trail within the mists, a strange fog suddenly filling their vision, along with stillness in the air. No more music, no dancing earth, just the empty air and their wavering spirits. It was as if they were suddenly wrapped in soil again, but still as light as air.
“Careful, everyone! There is a heavy stillness to this fog, which means it must be glamour. We don’t know what can be hiding, waiting for us.” Wizard sniffed the air, looking this way and that for an exit.
“Weren’t you the familiar of a powerful druid? How do we get by these fogs?” Gingerbrave bounded towards where he last heard the music, almost leaving behind his small group of wandering spirits.
However, as they bounded deeper into the wilderness, the trees began to loop, and the music started and ended in completely different directions. Strawberry even stopped to point at a knot in a tree that they had already passed at least three times before.
“I-I don’t think we’re going to find the procession in time. Oh, what if we don’t find them? What if we’re stuck on this plane for eternity? We’ll never see our family again if they pass on without us.” Strawberry coward once more into her hide of moss and leaves only for the hound to stand on his hind legs to reach her hight.
“That’s no reason for us to slow down. Just keep behind me! I have a great sense of smell, and we can still track them with the glamour they leave behind!” As if to prove himself, the hound began to sniff the ground, careful to pick up any traces of glamour.
Of course, he didn’t actually know what the procession smelled like, but he was sure he’d be able to spot it once he caught a whiff of it.
The rabbit perked up at this. “Intruiging! My druid did mention a hound’s heightened ability to track the aos sí. But you’re just a wolf, how can-”
As if by some miracle, he did. The lightest traces of wild berries and moonlight. Spice that hinted at a deep and older arcane focus. Even better, an aftersmell of wood and flowers that once littered their gravesite.
“This way!” The hound bounded further into the mists, now following a trail that would lead them to their next chapters in the immortal afterlife.
Proving his intuition right, the mists slowly began to dissipate. The trees cleared out, and even the ground became more defined.
However, something about the earth felt strange. Something that made the floor more slippery than average. It didn’t feel wet; it was almost like standing on ice. Even the trees held a strange luster to them, unlike anything the animals had ever seen.
The bear reached out and touched it, while the rabbit tried to nibble on the bark, only to spit out the littlest morsels he had tasted.
“Blegh! It’s some type of stone, or condensed rock!” Wizard spat while the bear rubbed against it to feel out the material.
“I-It feels like it's turning from bark to rock.”
“It’s silver!” The hound pressed his paw against the base of the tree’s roots. “I’ve only heard about it from the cookies in the village. It’s extremely rare! So rare, they’d give away anything for them!”
“E-Even food!?”
“Yep!”
“Even their burrow?”
“Of course!”
“But…it doesn’t do anything. It wouldn’t make a good home.”
“And it doesn’t make for a good meal either.” The rabbit spat again. “Cookies, such strange creatures. Why would they want such a useless rock?”
“They use it for their greed.”
The group immediately tensed and turned towards the new voice, a deep growl settling in the hound’s throat.
I just want to know if you are ok, There is a time since your last post, you don't need to answer,I just want you to know we care for you.
Oh gosh, thank you so much, anon! Not only do I really appreciate your concern, but please also have my little Cookie sona give you a virtual hug.
Honestly? It's been a bit of a rough month. Don't worry, nothing significantly bad has happened, but there have been some highs and lows that have left me both drained and wrecked by the end of most days. I have also been taking little breaks to work on other stories, so I apologize for taking so long to come back. I hope I didn't worry you too much!
As an apology, I'm gonna share some never-before-seen art and plans I was working on in the meantime, but never saw the light of day! I hope this makes up for my absence, and once again, thank you so much for your ask!
Hello again, my little sona! This is Seanchaí, my little stand-in! I was going to start a small little series, 'Rules of the Fae: Explained with Cookies', to not only practice drawing but to have fun with explaining Fae lore as well as some Irish Myths. However, it took away a lot of time I could have put to writing, and I didn't want to take too long between chapters just to go through these little comics.
TW: Spoilers for Chapter 6 of King of Beltane, zombification (but nothing graphic or bloody)
“For the Seasons! For our Virtues! Lay on until you see the jam leak from their eyes! Yield only when you meet your maker!”
-King of Beltane Chapter 6: Lughnasadh
This was actually going to be the first drawing I would release in Chapter 6; however, it never came out the way I truly wanted and was scrapped. Not to mention the chapter was taking too long to come out because of this drawing, so I had to prioritize my writing.
So uhhh...did you know I like to make stained glass art?
What a chapter we endured. No amount of paper cranes could help me feel at peace, so I put my efforts into one made out of glass with White Lily's Awakened colors.
Cranes are a symbol of longevity and good fortune, but most importantly, peace. May White Lily find her own peace by embodying it, and let's hope Pure Vanilla could do the same.
I binge read KoB recently and I’m absolutely obsessed. Im so in love with how you write that it brings tears to my eyes. You dint have to answer this if you don’t want to but, how often do you update KoB ?
Thank you so much, I'm so honored! I don't update as much as I used to, but I do try to get something in at least once a month. I've got other stories I'm writing alongside KoB, and they tend to take up some time as well. Hopefully it won't be too long, I just have one more story to do before I continue on with the next chapter, promise!
To make up for my delay, please have this little sneak peek at the next chapter's drawing with just the tiniest bit of dialog! Enjoy ;)
"You stand before the embodiment of your ignorance, the folly of your pride! Face me, Fool! FACE YOUR CONSEQUENCE!"
‘Wait, no. I did not intend-’
“INTENTIONS MEAN NOTHING IN THE WAKE OF YOUR ACTIONS!”
Recently found this links about Fairies and Fae's Courts
https://www.tumblr.com/thenaiads/810462880688390144
I hope you will like it ☺️☺️☺️
Thank you so much for giving me these wonderful examples of Fae and Faerie Courts! I've always wanted to learn more about other myths outside Ireland, and seeing the variety in these posts is inspiring!
If I may give something in turn, I recommend the Complete Irish Mythology by Lady Gregory and the Preface by W.B. Yeats. This is a book I grew up on alongside my family's retellings, and I can't express how important it was to my research.
So uhm... I pumped all these out the night I read the chapter but then had technical difficulties, oops. I also did a sketch from last chapter cuz I never got to it... And because I made the pv deer blond, like I said he now looks like a borzoi.
At one point I thought "wow, you're just drawing a lot of Pure Vanilla suffering", and then I remembered that was all that happened the whole chapter.
Love your work and keep doing what you're doing <3
And some more doodles
You always know how to impress @phooen1x ! Thank you for sharing these lovely pieces despite the technical difficulties!
You always seem to perfectly capture the moment, and it just so happens to be a lot of PV just not having a good time.
Your borzoi deer is now gonna be one of my favorite ideas for an animal cross, and I shall draw it because that would be such an interesting mix.
I know that PV is supposed to be a powerful king and all… but all I’m seeing is a little angy goat boi.
give him some hay and snuggles, he needs it.
Sometimes you just need to see an angry goat boi as a happy goat boi. So I shall give him the snuggles he deserves. (Even though the goat snuggling with him does NOT deserve it, at least in my fic right now).
Oh, to be a goat on a farm sneaking out to see your wild ram boyfriend when the farmer isn't looking, because your boyfriend won't accept a domestic life, and you can't leave your flock or farmer behind, and you're both just waiting for the other to finally make up their mind and either stay or run away together.
so uhm…I’m just dying to know since we left off on a cliffhanger, how often do you update King Of Beltane? I love your ficssss <3
You actually caught me at a time where I was about to upload a teaser, so great timing! Thank you so much for asking!
I used to try and upload every two weeks, but with life and things getting in the way, it's just been when I could get to it. I've still been trying to get each publish by the month at least, but with everything kinda calming down now, I hope to try and be more consistent.
Did a quick little sketch of KoB smilk, not sure I captured your vision very good but I tried my best! ^^ More to come maybe?
@dontmindmeimharmless You have absolutely made my day! Thank you so much for your gift. You captured his essence perfectly. I've had a hard time catching him in my own drawings, so looking at all these iterations has inspired me. Yours has such a great personality in such a quick sketch, and I admire that so much.
Thank you again for such a lovely drawing. I would love to see whatever you decide to do in the future! I will treasure it always.
Oh gosh, I tried to get this next chapter out in time for Christmas, but that is just so in the past now, and I feel bad. I hope you all can have this morsel, especially since the full thing will be coming out in the next day or two. Might even release a drawing I was trying to do for chapter 6, but I'm debating since it's not coming out to my liking.
I hope you enjoy, and I hope to stay more active here than I have been soon!
tw: animal bones
There truly is no rest for the wicked, especially an Aos Sí scorned.
One would have thought that Shadow Milk’s livelihood had gone up in flames at the way he made the world fester around him. The grass he stood upon withered into soot, the sheep couldn’t get near without limping, and even Pure Vanilla’s house was beginning to rot from the inside.
“The fools! Miscreants! To think, ME! Under some feeble enchantment!? One too many years on the grate!? Such baseless, INFANTILE LIES! If they are to run a rumor mill of me, do it with class! Not HALFBAKED HEARSAY!”
The house was constantly made clean by Black Sapphire, while Candy Apple did her best to distract him in any way a minion knew. Asking for Hurley lessons, taking on his tasks, she even dropped herself down to trying to play fetch, both in and out of her fox form. The entertainment seemed to either go over the fae’s head or straight under his heeled boots as he stomped on the neatly swept floor and swatted the stick away.
“Losing my touch? A stitch away from a popped seam!? Well, my ungrateful audience, it’s MY turn now! Just wait. Keep looking for a scandal, and you’ll find nothing but my RAGE!”
Pure Vanilla witnessed precisely what Shadow Milk wanted the Courts to chew on. With it now being the Autumn season, the Unseelie seemed to be busier than ever. If he thought he was already absent back before Litha, then his presence on the shepherd’s farm was near nonexistent. Many a day was spent trying to take care of the decaying environment he now found himself in, only to have to redo it once Shadow Milk returned for their mandatory full-day rendezvous.
However, it was less about spending quality time and more about him spouting to his minions and other Autumn Unseelie about where to go, when to cause a ruckus, and who to sabotage. Moments Pure Vanilla actually planned to talk to him about future plans, or even just talk, but was constantly foiled by the Autumn fae that were finding their way onto his property to seek Shadow Milk's guidance.
He didn’t even get to talk to Black Raisin or Cotton as much as they used to. Their letters, care packages, and little hints of gossip from the townsfolk were all the shepherd had to make him feel grounded in this fantastical nightmare. However, it seemed to have stopped visiting him altogether. It was harvest season, so they must be busy preparing for Winter.
In truth, Pure Vanilla hadn’t been able to leave his property since Lughnasadh. How could he when Shadow Milk and his minions were out at nearly every waking hour? And how was he supposed to suggest taking a stroll through the village when his only escort was set to burst with some type of tantrum he would need to disway? He likened his attempts at calming the birched Beast to those of a mother and her babe rather than to those of a spouse to his husband.
It got so bad that it nearly made him forget about his monthly meeting with White Lily.
“To all fae of Winter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn, heed the words that come from the chair of the Millennium Tree. The recent tragedy that has befallen our sleeping brothers, sisters, and kin will not go unheard, unseen, or unavenged. With no progress between the courts of Seelie and Unseelie after many a night of debate, all future preparations for ceremonies, congregations, and social gatherings will be prohibited until the offenders are apprehended and dealt punishment. Please also be informed that the coercion of Seelie and Unseelie outside of ritualistic practice is still taboo and, as of now, strictly banned until further notice.”
Pure Vanilla listened as his gloved hands picked at another violet sunset orchid that glowed in the twilight like a promise. And a promise it was. One that grew out of the eye socket of a wolf skull.
White Lily continued as she stayed an arm’s length away from the graveyard of half-buried animals. “With the recent outbreak of Sluage, we will be calling upon the Wild Hunt in our hour of need. For any who wish to volunteer, meet at a faerie circle within your realms and wait for Him to pass. On the night of Samhain, listen to the wind, and heed the call. If you have further inquiries, please direct your prayers to the Leaders. May the Seasons persist.”
Once the druid tucked the scroll back into her satchel, Pure Vanilla turned to her, twirling the orchid’s stem in his fingers. He tried to hide his shivering, blaming it instead on the growing breeze of Autumn.
“Sluagh? Is that what they call those wooden creatures?” Pure Vanilla questioned as he moved onto the next skull, a rabbit.
“They are the unforgiven crumbled souls that are forced out of rest too early. Trapped in the past, they can't see further than their own delusions. Even worse, they spread a poisonous ichor from their claws, and if anyone is to be cut by them, they will take a much longer time to heal.” White Lily looked at the flower Pure Vanilla picked, her eye twitching.
“Imagine, waking up after hundreds of years, only to recognize nothing? Without having known what had happened?" The shepherd almost spoke in a spellbound manner, his arm tensing.
White Lily tried to bring the original subject back to the limelight. “Why has the Dark Fool asked you to tend to this…grave? Why these flowers?”
“When ground into a paste with patchouli, these flowers can make a potent protection spell. They only grow in graveyards, and usually only grow around this time of year. He wants to use them to form a protective barrier around the barn. Isn’t that thoughtful?” Pure Vanilla put another flower in his basket, absentmindedly rubbing his arm as he continued through the makeshift graveyard.
“How do you know this is out of goodwill? The fae do not help because they feel like it.”
“He indeed has an incentive to keep me from crumbling, but I wish to look at it as a possibility. He has come so far since we first met, and I would like to believe that some part of him is sincere.” A vine of bittersweet tickled at Pure Vanilla’s ear as he tucked it back into the yellow ribbons in his hair.
“This is not a debt, this is a dower. One that you have already paid back in a dowry that we still don’t know about.” White Lily knew it was a losing battle, but she knew not but to fight.
“Trust me, Lily, these flowers are part of my plan. See it as a way to give back what he has given to me. A fair trade in the eyes of the fae. If I allow my debt to build, he may demand my soul come next Beltane. Even when I don’t fall for him.” Pure Vanilla plucked another flower, this time, a forget-me-not from the ribcage of a bear.
White Lily froze at his statement. “Vanilla, Elder Faerie told me everything that transpired at the Tailteann Games. We are worried that it is no longer a matter of 'when' but 'if'. Please tell me you at least kept the ring. That would be a much better asset to rely on than the Dark Fool.”
“I had to find a new use for it. I don’t want to keep hurting him.” Pure Vanilla pulled out a small sack tied to the same chain his parents gave him. “Shaving the iron down into dust was difficult, but mixing it with dried ground primrose and johnswort should still protect me.”
The sudden mention of the Guardian left the shepherd on edge, but he decided to ask.
“How is he faring?” Once again, a small shock of pain shot from his shoulder. A flower quaked in his grip as he pulled it from the paw of a wolf. The scratching of cockroaches next to his ears did nothing to help his grip on the basket of flowers.
“...he has not been well. Any injury caused by the Sluagh can be costly. His injuries have not healed, even when we’ve leached the poison. He can barely fly without a breeze knocking him over. He is cold, endlessly cold.”
Pure Vanilla reached into his basket and presented to his friend a starlight orchid. “Have you tried these? I think there is an enchantment you can use to make a magic balm. I have been learning about Dark Moon Magic, and these flowers work wonderfully with it.”
White Lily tried to disguise the spit in her voice. “We will find another alternative. To feed off the life force of others, even crumbled ones, is barbaric. You shouldn’t be using them either; cross-contamination can bring grave consequences. What would happen if you became Fae-Touched from eating it? There is no going back from such a mistake.”
“As you wish.” Pure Vanilla put the flower back and stepped out of the garden. He subconsciously rolled his shoulder, feeling a dull throb come from his wound. “In that case, is this all you wished to discuss?”
“Are you any closer to knowing what your dowry is?” White Lily’s question shouldn’t have made Pure Vanilla stiffen, but it sparked that nasty burning in his chest.
For the past week, it was the only thing White Lily wanted to know. Letter after letter she sent asked what had transpired on Lughnasadh, but not if his wound was healing. She pondered on his dowry, but not on the wool he sheared, which slowly tapered out in popularity at the market. Out of the four days she had visited him since that fateful Beltane afternoon, it was the same monotonous compunction that disguised itself as a wellness check. One that didn’t quite scratch him the right way.
Lastly, he still felt great shame in not telling her the reason for his hesitation to learn the truth.
What if this is his only chance?
What if the Truth broke him?
“No.” Pure Vanilla tried to convince himself.
White Lily waited, as if waiting for him to continue. However, only crickets from the long grass answered her prayers.
This response made her voice shiver.
“Pure Vanilla Cookie. What has transpired to make you so…”
The shepherd stopped just in front of his barn. A sharp burning sensation had been jabbed in his chest, twisting the burning coals in his throat and stirring them into a roaring fire.
“You know what it is like to question a fae’s word, to wonder if their promises are sincere.” Pure Vanilla finally turned to her, looking down at the purple powder ribbon with silver engravings around her wrist. “I simply want to know the Truth, and that requires trust. I intend to earn it, not force his will. And if our Truths do not concur, then…”
You’ll be alone.
“There is no Truth in a creature that lives in deceit. I understand your empathy, Pure Vanilla, but do you not expect me to be worried when you show kindness to a Beast that feasts upon ignorance?”
Because you’re nothing but a hopeless spinster.
The deafening buzzing of hornets dominated the air. The cicadas screamed.
“Is this the Freedom you wanted, White Lily Cookie? Or were you so busy searching for mine that you've misplaced your own?”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Have you read The King of Beltane (Cookie Run: Kingdom)?
Yes, I am/was in the fandom
Yes, but I’m not in the fandom
No, but I’m in the fandom
No, I’m not in the fandom
Voting ended onNov 25, 2025
Summary: The Beltane Festival is celebrated every first full moon in May to mark the turning of spring into summer. Crops and cattle are blessed, flowers are strewn over every head, and harvest sacrifices are made to appease the Fae, the Aos Sí. The Maypole Dance is one of the most famous traditions. Opponents test who can dance the longest and win the blessings of the Fae. The local shepherd has participated many times, yet he has consistently failed to win.
One fateful Beltane morning, the Amadán Dorcha, the Dark Fool, demands for more than a harvest sacrifice. At the same time, the shepherd struggles to dance on a narrow ribbon between freedom and loneliness.
Author: @crkfaeau
Submitter: @signal-less
Note from submitter: crk fae au author i am thanking you for my life
