Chapter Text
It’s freezing.
Every step forward chills him further. But he has to keep moving.
Five months along and stuck in the beginnings of a blizzard. Yep. Ranks high in the top places Dark Choco never wants to be in.
His cloak flutters in the wind. He holds it to his chest, feeling the cloth he used to tie his breasts away scratch against his skin. His feet can’t catch solid ground, the wind pushing and pulling him around. Dark Choco tries to keep his breath. The cold makes it hard.
He wanders in the dark of the woods. It’s so cold…. So cold…
He falls to his knees. His eye hurts. His body aches. His being screams to rest. Here and now. No matter the cost. Dark Choco fees his face heat up with tears. Not here. Don’t endanger this child. The only good thing he has in his life. He tries to get up, but he falls back into the snow. He lays there, the snow in the sky starting to bury him. He turns to see the dark sky.
A lantern light catches his gaze. “Hello?!”
Dark Choco pants in exhilaration. He gets on his elbows, shivering in the cold. “Hello!! Help!!”
The light comes closer to him, and a small girl with blue eyes and fluffy white hair smiles warmly at him. “Do you need shelter?!”
Dark Choco nods, barely able to contain his smile. The small girl offers her hand.
—
At the bottom of the mountain, it’s easier to breathe and the snow falls gracefully. The Milk Village, the quaint little collection of old wives, old men, old tales, and old medicine… Dark Choco is safer here. He can walk easy through the snow. Women approach him, hold his arms in their well worn hands. They comment on his bump, sweetly talking about how he looks healthy and strong, how he’s going to make a wonderful mother.
He’s settled in a tavern room, given food and thicker clothes. It’s so warm here. Everyone… everything… so warm… so lovely. A doctor comes and listens to his baby bump. Like everyone else, he’s withered with crows feet around his eyes. His smile must be hidden by his large mustache and beard/
“They’re healthy.” He announces, smiling up at him. “You must be a very excited mother.”
Dark Choco takes a deep breath and nods. Mother mother mother mother. He hopes to be a good parent in general. “Thank you… sir.”
The doctor nods, putting his tools away. “You can expect a healthy child and an easy birth in about three months. We happily accept you here.”
Dark Choco nods, glancing at his stomach, putting his hands on his bump. After the doctor leaves, Dark Choco digs in his bag and pulls a book out. He opens it to the bookmark, clears his throat, and begins to read. They’re halfway through “Around the World in Eighty Days” and he wants to finish it before this month is over. They’ve been traveling so much. Dark Choco snorts. Yeah… just like Praline Fogg and Jerky Passepartout in the novel. He gently rubs his bump. “We’ll find a home soon… I promise.”
The image of their sire's hand on his stomach flashes in his mind. He sighs.
It’s safer this way. He needs to keep reminding himself that.
—
The oldest women of the village refuse to let him assist with the supply drop. He tries to assure them that he’s fine, he can take the weight of the bags and crates. But they scold him, shoo him away. Dark Choco sighs and steps back. He flips his hood off, his hair falling around his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, the cold air relaxing his systems.
“Oreo?”
Dark Choco freezes at the name, the voice, the hesitance. Horror drags through his arteries as he slowly turns around.
Caramel Arrow dismounts a horse. Slowly, she approaches him, like a dog with sickness, raising its hackles in fear and disorientation. Dark Choco is no dog.
His voice gets caught in his throat. He hugs his cloak to his chest, covering his stomach, the evidence of his-- his vileness.
Caramel Arrow’s eyes water, then runs over to him. “I thought I’d never see you again. Are you okay? Are you sick?” She hugs him tight, then holds his arms, looking him over. Her eyes stop at his bump. And at that moment, his baby decides to kick and bounce. Dark Choco can barely whisper.
“We need to talk…”
---
Caramel Arrow sits on the chair next to his bed, rocking slowly. She hasn’t said anything, just stares at the floor and twiddles her thumb.
He’s explained everything. He can’t-- he can’t tell-- what Caramel Arrow is thinking. He was crying earlier. He just might start again. She’s going to be so pissed off. He’s disgusting. He’s awful. He’s--
She takes a deep breath.
Dark Choco braces for the screams. His hands grip the bed sheets in--
Caramel Arrow hugs him. Dark Choco’s eye pops open. He looks at Caramel Arrow. She’s got tears in her eyes, and
She’s smiling.
“I’m glad you’re still alive… I don’t care about your name or your words… You’re still my best friend, my sibling. A-and this?!” She steps back and gestures his bump. “This is so exciting! I can’t wait to meet them… if you’ll let me.”
Dark Choco smiles weakly. He takes a shakey breath. “I… would love to introduce you to them… eventually.” His smile falls. “… but-- you cannot tell father. I can’t-- you can’t—”
Caramel Arrow gently punches his shoulder. “It’ll be like old times. It’ll be our secret. Not even Chippy will now.”
Dark Choco smiles, nods… he hugs his bump. Caramel Arrow quickly sits next to him. “please please please, tell me you have some name ideas.”
---
Dark Choco almost falls over from pain. The contractions hurt.
It’s too early.
He’s only seven-and-a-half months along. He needs another month and a half. The baby isn’t ready.
Dark Choco cries out for help, holding himself up in the doorway. The deep night is bright with lights and colors. If it could help, it would be warm and full. His thighs feel wet. He looks down and feels his heart turn ice cold.
Blood as red as roses and sweet blushing and passion in the night. Blood stains his dark pants and bandages. Blood pools on the floorboards.
Dark Choco feels numb all of a sudden. As if he never pulled out of the blizzard.
As if his body gave up right then and there.
He-- He falls to his knees, sounds blurring in and out. Someone approaches him.
—
Morning comes before the baby. Dark Choco pants and cries softly. It all hurts. From the top of his lungs to his knees, it hurts so so so much. He can’t even speak. He can’t even feel himself breathe. it-- hurts-- hurts so much--
There’s screaming. Is it him? It can’t be him… it’s shrill and loud and new and innocent. He cracks his eye open. The bright lights flood his senses. The sharp smell of blood. The sound of wailing.
An itty bitty girl, dark skinned, red wisps of hair on her head, screeching at the top of her itty bitty lungs. It’s hard to bring her into focus. Pain and lack of energy wear Dark Choco down. He must close his eye again, but her little body is engraved into his memory.
She’s whisked away to the doctor as Dark Choco’s pulled to a bathroom. Someone cleans his body, chirping about little clothes and little boots. It’s a woman, probably why she’s comfortable washing him. He sighs softly, then passes out.
—
His little girl is in a clean room. Pretty much sterilized. No toys, no books, no nothing. He settles on the floor next to his baby after being cleared by the doctor.
Dark Choco can see her better now. A little hat adorns her head, but it doesn't hide the odd patterns around her eyes and mouth. Her arms have light stripes from her elbows to her chubby hands. Even her feet have the same markings. Dark Choco smiles warmly, remembering her sire.
The doctor comes in, sits next to him. "What were you thinking about naming her?"
Blazing ovens. Hounds running around and learning orders. A tall, imposing man of unique proportions, his long red hair fluttering in the hot wind. Dark Choco rests his head against the bars of the crib.
He would never know of his daughter's existence, Dark Choco muses. It hurts to know. He always wanted a little kid just like him. And he’ll never get that…
"Beignet." Dark Choco murmurs softly. The patterns remind him of powdered sugar on chocolate pastries. He reaches through the bars of the crib and holds her little hand. It's softer than the sound of snowfall. "Cocoa Beignet."
The doctor nods, smiles at the bitty baby. "That's a sweet name."
The doctor leaves them alone. Caramel Arrow rushes in-- Dark Choco didn’t even know she was still close by. She hugs him tight, shaking like a leaf in the wind. “I heard what happened!! Are you okay, are you—”
“shh…” Dark Choco hushes her gently. She looks at the crib, the little girl all bundled up in pink blankets. “Let my baby girl sleep…”
Dark Choco can see Caramel Arrow holding back her squeals. She sits beside him, staring at his darling baby girl….
—
Dark Choco is allowed to come in and nurse Cocoa Beignet. He likes to read to her while he does so. He rocks on the floor, only stopping to turn the page. Cocoa Beignet seems content. She's so quiet as well, according to the doctor. She doesn't scream and cry often. But when she does, she can be heard throughout the village.
She grows a little bit bigger every day, Dark Choco notices. A little stronger. A little more. He holds her close, kissing her head and swearing to protect her from the worst evils of the world. She coos very softly. He puts their book down and clutches Cocoa Beignet close. He sings very softly, about a home with puppy dogs and sunshine in the summer and a tall imposing man who can cradle her in one hand. She would barely fit in the palm of his claw.
Gods…. Red Velvet must be so angry with him…. His eye wells up.
Red Velvet won’t ever know about Cocoa Beignet. It’s safer that way. He must keep telling himself that. If Red Velvet knew, he’d tell Dark Enchantress. And if Dark Enchantress learned of Cocoa Beignet…. She could control Dark Choco better than that sword could.
His little baby can never fall into the hands of the Cookies of Darkness. And unfortunately, that includes Red Velvet.
He murmurs an apology to his lover.
—
They're ready to continue their travels. With his little baby tucked carefully in a cloth, tied securely to his chest, Dark Choco begins their travels again. The sun sparkles on the snow. A staff with a lantern helps him along, urgedon by the little sounds Cocoa Beignet makes in her swaddle cloth. He can feel her breathing and cooing on his chest. It feels right.
Caramel Arrow waves them off, and he starts his journey down. The ground is uneven, and every step is difficult. The snow has built up significantly, so he sinks with every step. The larger shoes do help. Thank the Divine for stupid people who live in the snow. They’ve gifted him a staff to help him walk and snow shoes to keep from sinking...
Dark Choco’s never liked the snow. It just…. The cold isn’t his thing. Then again, if they’re gonna live somewhere warm, he might have some fainting spells.
He looks up at the warm sun in the sky. It’s midmorning, and he’s heading south down the mountain. He sighs softly and continues onward.
Onwards, to the start of this new life.