Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Back in the garden, beneath a flowering sugar tree, Hollyberry sat comfortably under the shimmering leaves as Eternal Sugar Cookie played her harp across from her, playing with skillful grace.

Between them, a low table with cups of warm tea as the steam curled in sweet ribbons. Hollyberry’s shield rested lazily against the tree trunk, untouched. For once, her shoulders didn’t ache. For once, her heart wasn’t bracing for war.

“You look quite peaceful there, dearest,” Eternal Sugar Cookie said softly, voice smooth as honeyed milk.

Hollyberry opened one eye, grinning. “Can’t help it, with music like that it can put even the stiffest of cookies to sleep. You play beautifully.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. I suppose it’s become a part of my routine. Or a hobby, if you will.”

“Really playing into the angel aesthetic now, are we?,” Hollyberry teased.

“Huhu~ It is but a sweet coincidence, my dearest,” Eternal sugar giggled lightly, tuning a string absentmindedly. ”It's soothing… Gives my mind something to focus on when things gets too loud. Besides, it’s a quiet kind of creation. One that doesn’t demand too much.” She paused, her eyes unreadable for a moment. “Every cookie needs something like that. Don’t you think?”

Hollyberry tilted her head. “Never thought of it that way. I suppose adventure’s always been my hobby. Meeting new folks, discovering places, taking on quests, and whatnot.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie laughed, “That’s your daily life, dear. That doesn’t count as a hobby!”

Hollyberry blinked, then chuckled with a little shrug. “Fair point. I never really… had time to think about hobbies. I was young and hungry for the world. Before I knew it, the adventurer became the hero, and then the hero became a queen.”

“A dazzling rise,” Eternal Sugar Cookie said warmly. “But a little sad too, isn’t it? When responsibility finds you too early, it often plants seeds of doubt.”

Hollyberry sat up straighter. “I don’t regret it. I’m honored. I did what I had to do, what anyone would be proud to do.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie’s eyes lowered, but her smile turned slightly knowing. “There’s at least one lie in that.”

Hollyberry blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

But the angelic cookie only gave a smile that didn’t answer nor explain. Her gaze drifted to her harp instead.

“Never mind that,” she said sweetly. “I made you a song just now.”

Hollyberry blinked again. “Just now? You’re pulling my dough.”

“I’m not,” Eternal Sugar Cookie said with playful insistence. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you just ‘made' a song thirty minutes ago!” Hollyberry countered with an fake exasperated tone.

The bringer of happiness giggled softly, shaking her head, “So? Songs come to me. Would you like to hear it?”

“I would,” Hollyberry said with a grin, folding her arms across her chest. “What’s it called?”

Eternal Sugar Cookie closed her eyes, humming softly under her breath.

“I’ll call it… A Moment’s Rest.”

And she began to play.

At first, the tune was simple and lovely, like sunlight glancing through leaves. It sang of joy, the kind written on the faces of friends reunited, the kind in soft laughter shared over tea, the kind in a child’s wide-eyed wonder. It sounded like what most cookies might describe as happiness.

But slowly, the notes began to shift. The melody deepened, uncertain. It no longer danced, it lingered. Paused. Questioned. Was that true happiness? Or simply the shadow of it? Could something so fleeting be real at all?

The song seemed to echo across the garden, reverberating in the sugar-sweet air, and something stirred quietly in Hollyberry’s chest. She felt pulled in by the song, it felt oddly… familiar, almost as if she could feel the emotions herself.

Eternal Sugar Cookie finished with a whisper of strings, the final note hanging.

“Just this once,” Eternal Sugar Cookie said, voice gentler than ever, “allow yourself a moment of rest… just for you.”

Hollyberry chuckled. “You’re going to make me soft at this rate. Bah, that’s not like me at all…”

Eternal Sugar Cookie only smiled wider. “Even the strongest deserve softness.”

Their conversation stretched on like warm dough between them. Hollyberry listened, spoke, even laughed, truly laughed, from the belly. For the first time in moons, she wasn’t thinking of the next threat, the next kingdom affair, the next problem only she could fix.

“Oh my,” Eternal Sugar Cookie sighed, cradling her cup. “We had such a marvelous talk, didn’t we?”

Hollyberry nodded slowly, the warmth in her chest almost too much to bear. 

Then, the Eternal Sugar Cookie rose from the grass, clasping her hands together.

“Ah, I forgot—it’s time to meditate,” she said sweetly. “Please, my dear Hollyberry. I truly hope you can rest your weary soul. Here, in this sacred place… I wish you nothing but eternal happiness.”

Hollyberry looked down, startled by the ache rising in her throat. She swallowed it. “T-Thank you!”

Eternal Sugar’s eyes gleamed, just a little too bright, and suddenly, the space between them lessened with Eternal Sugar cookie holding the sides of Hollyberry’s face in a vice grip. She stared intensely into Hollyberry’s eyes as if trying to peer into her soul.

“When the world demanded endless answers and solutions from you, O hero…” she whispered. “Your trusted shield became your sanctuary. A refuge from the weight of expectation and duty. But with me—”

Eternal Sugar Cookie leaned into the queen's ear as if she was telling her a secret,  the beast cookies grip was as tight as before.

“—you can put your own happiness first.”

Hollyberry’s breath caught.

In an instant, the breeze turned sour.

The blossoms blackened, crumbling into sticky ash. The sunlight bled into tar. The garden melted like frosting left in the oven, warping and running down the sky in thick globs. Hollyberry staggered to her feet, her shield suddenly heavy in her grip again.

The peaceful tree was gone. In its place: twisted vines of licorice and burnt sugar, pulsing with an unnatural glow. Candy-caged structures loomed in the distance, where laughter once echoed sweetly, now hollow.

She saw Sugarfly Cookie suspended in midair, wings glazed over with crystallized syrup, her smile frozen and eyes empty. Pavlova Cookie danced endlessly in a ring of caramel, flying with a purpose no longer his own. They looked happy, but too happy. The kind of happy that masks fear.

Then she saw them, her people, the citizens of the Hollyberry Kingdom. Giggling, glowing… but glazed, too slow to speak freely, too quick to obey. Bound to Eternal Sugar’s warped vision of bliss. A sweet, velvet sloth… a sickening utopia.

“You... you made all of this?” Hollyberry’s voice cracked like brittle sugar glass.

Eternal Sugar stood among the wreckage, serene as ever. “I only gave them what they craved: joy, safety, relief. You know they were tired of the struggle. So were you.”

“You stole their will!” Hollyberry’s grip tightened on her shield. “You clouded their minds! You used them to tempt me into giving in!”

"Is that so wrong?" Eternal Sugar’s voice was quiet. “Why fight when you could rest? Why lead when you could be adored?”

The words dripped with poison. Hollyberry staggered. A crack snaked across her shield. Her limbs felt heavy. Her heart pounded like a war drum under honeyed fog.

Then she heard it, her own laugh, hollow and distant, echoing across the dreamscape. A version of herself, lying near a tree being fed grapes by sugar angels with a lazy smile on her face, she had a shield, but it lay useless beside the tree, her eyes glazed like the others. 

Content. Still. Useless.

"No…" Hollyberry whispered. “That’s not me. That’ll never be me.”

Eternal Sugar tilted her head. “You’re breaking, Hollyberry Cookie. Isn’t it better to shatter into sweetness than stand alone in bitterness?”

That was the final straw.

With a roar, Hollyberry raised her shield high. “I am a warrior no matter how many times I crumble. And I would rather piece myself back together again and again than rot in your honeyed cage!”

Eternal Sugar blinked once. Her expression was unreadable, neutral, before twisting into one of fear and desperation. Her hands trembled, then snapped back to Hollyberry’s face, gripping her dough like iron.

Her voice cracked, not with fury, but desperation.

“You don’t want to lose anymore!” she screamed. “You don’t want to feel that pain again! You hate it when they cry!”

Hollyberry froze. “What? Who are you talking about?”

Eternal Sugar’s eyes were wide, glassy, lost. Her voice trembled with something raw.

“Don’t leave. Dont leave. Dont leave. Dont leave.”

“…Eternal Sugar…?”

Her grip tightened like a vice.

“Don’t choose the pain again. If you do… I failed.”

But Hollyberry didn’t hear the rest.

She awoke with a violent gasp, her whole body trembling. The grand bed of the Hollyberry Palace felt cold against her back, her frosting twisted around her limbs. Her fists were clenched so tightly, crumbs fell from her palms.

She stared at the ceiling, heart pounding. No more peace. No more softness.

Only the bitter aftertaste of something far too sweet.

Chapter Text

Sunlight spilled through the towering stained-glass windows of Hollyberry Castle, catching the gold trim of Hollyberry Cookie’s armor as she fastened the last piece to her chest. The echoing clinks of metal rang hollow in her ears. She adjusted her pauldrons with practiced ease—but her eyes, heavy from the night before, betrayed her.

The dream still lingered like sugar smoke.

She exhaled slowly, steadying herself as she stepped out into the castle corridors. Servants bustled in orderly rows, arms full of scrolls and bags, preparations for the coming voyage to Odyssey Castle were well underway. The other Ancients had returned from their encounters with their beasts, and Hollyberry was well on her way to rejoin them. It filled her with determination, thinking of the next move regarding the beast cookies.

“Your Highness!” called Raspberry Cookie, marching up the hallway with Wildberry in tow.

“Everything is prepared for the departure at in a few days,” Wildberry added but with a hint of concern as his eyes swept over her face. “Shall we discuss the route through the southern pass?”

“Ah, no need to fuss over details now!” Hollyberry replied, waving a hand as she forced a grin. “I trust your judgments completely, after all, a hollyberrian must know when to delegate!” She patted Wildberry hard on the shoulder and gave Raspberry a wink. They both bowed politely and continued their work.

She turned toward the back of the castle, needing air. Maybe even silence.

Near the edge of the royal forest, where the morning wind carried a crisp scent of dew and earth, Princess Cookie stood under an archway of berries and roses, humming softly as she watered a flower bed.

“Queen Mother!” she called out cheerily, looking up with bright eyes. “You’ve got that big-frowny-thinking-face again. Did you forget to bring your special berry juice?”

Hollyberry chuckled, caught off guard. “Not this time. Just a few too many thoughts for one helmet.”

“Well, maybe you should let me wear the helmet today, and you can just go have fun!” the little princess beamed. “You always tell me joy is strength, right?”

Before Hollyberry could reply, a thunderous crash came from the clearing beyond the hedge.

“YOU VILLAIN! TASTE THE STING OF JUSTICE!”

“By the grapes!” Hollyberry muttered, instantly recognizing the voice.

Bursting through the hedges came Knight Cookie, brandishing his sword, his armor askew and flapping as he lunged at a tall, cherry-red Cookie with sharp horns, flicking their tail lazily behind them.

Pitaya Dragon Cookie, in their Cookie form, swayed aside with complete disinterest. Their arms were crossed, expression blank.

“I ssssaid you could sssspar me, not irritate me,” Pitaya muttered.

Knight Cookie shouted another vow of valor and leapt at them, only to be swatted to the side like a muffin crumb.

Their eyes lit up the moment they spotted Hollyberry. “Ah. Finally! Ssssomeone worth my time.”

“Hey! That wasn’t very nice! You should watch your mouth!” Princess cookie exclaimed, holding up a defensive stance between Knight Cookie and the dragon.

The dragon cookie rolled their eyes and walked by the two young cookies. Hollyberry straightened as they approached, rolling her shoulders.

“I demand our duel,” they declared, talons flexing with anticipation. “You ssssaid after sssunrise yesterday. It’s way after sssunrisse.”

The memory hit her like a slap. She had promised them a sparring match after her return from the beastly expedition. And she had forgotten.

“Right…” she muttered. “That was today.”

“Clearly,” they scoffed. “I’ve been bored out of my mind! That pretzel-tin knight couldn’t even warm me up.”

Knight Cookie groaned from the grass. “I… need to get stronger..”

Hollyberry turned to Princess Cookie, her voice suddenly firm. “Inside. You, too, Knight Cookie.”

“Aww, but—!”

“No buts. That’s a dragon, dear.” She gave her granddaughter a nudge toward the gates and picked up her shield, suddenly grateful for the weight in her hands.

Knight Cookie quickly obeyed and bowed politely. Princess Cookie stuck out her tongue at Pitaya before dragging Knight Cookie away by the cape.

As the children scampered off, Pitaya watched her closely.

“You look distracted,” they said.

“I’m not,” Hollyberry replied quickly. Too quickly.

They grinned wider. “Good. Then I won’t hold back.”

___

Once they were alone, Pitaya smiled battle hungry, “I’ve been dying to see if your new fancy powers make you less of a bore.”

Hollyberry rolled her shoulders. Her shield shimmered into existence, sturdy, gleaming, a symbol of her conviction. The air around her pulsed faintly as the protective magic formed a light barrier. 

“HAH!” She charged forward with force, meeting Pitaya’s claws mid-swing. Sparks flew.

“Ohoho! Very interessssting! ”

They exchanged blows, steel clashing with claws and teeth. Hollyberry’s Shield of Conviction absorbed the pressure, pulsing with each hit. She could feel the Seed of Life gathering inside her chest; each strike she took invigorated her battle spirit.

But then

In a blink, she remembered Eternal Sugar Cookie again—the way their broken eyes had looked at her in that dream. That strange, sad smile.

She faltered. Just enough that Pitaya's draconic fire managed to swat the warrior queen to the side of the field. Hollyberry quickly gained her momentum mid-air and stood on her two legs, staring back at the dragon with those fearless eyes once more.

Pitaya Dragon cookie however was out of the immersion. They lowered their claws. “Ah. And jussst when I wasss having fun.”

They plopped onto the grass, legs crossed. “Alright. Ssspit it out. What’s got your berriesss in a twissst? Warrior crississ? Exisstential dread? Did sssomeone call you old again?”

Hollyberry snorted and readied her shield again. “Nonsense. I’ve been absorbing your little scratches just fine.”

“That’sss not what I meant,” they said, stepping back and flexing their wings in irritation. “Come on, out with it!”

Hollyberry lowered her shield a bit.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just thinking.”

Pitaya Dragon Cookie stared at her, their tail lashing lazily behind them. “About your battle with the Beassst Yeassst Cookie? That why you’re brooding?”

Hollyberry blinked. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scowl. “Of course not.”

“Oh? Ssso you’re jusst clumsssy and dissstracted for no reason?”

The accusation stung sharper than it should have. She turned away slightly, trying to deflect.

“It’s nothing,” she said again, more firmly this time. “I can handle it.”

Pitaya folded their arms, unimpressed. “That’sss the worssst lie I’ve ever heard from a Cookie who once claimed ssshe ssuplexed a ginger golem.”

“Because I did suplex that ginger  golem!”

“I sssaw the ginger golem get dizzy and fall on itsss own.”

“Because I stunned it first—!” Hollyberry stopped herself with a groan. “Why am I explaining myself to a lizard…”

They grinned. “Becaussse something’s clearly bothering you, and I’m not going anywhere until you ssspill it.”

Hollyberry sighed heavily. She stared down at her gauntlet. The vines engraved on her armor pulsed faintly—remnants of the Seed of Passion still coiled in her core, reacting to the emotional weight she’d been carrying since the dream.

“It’s not what you think,” she said finally, her voice softer. “It’s not about battle. Not really.”

Pitaya tilted their head. “Then?”

“…I met a Cookie,” she said slowly, not quite sure how to word it. “During our encounter. One of the Beast Cookies.”

Pitaya perked up, clearly expecting a new challenger tale.

But Hollyberry wasn’t smiling.

“She… understood me,” she said. “In a way no one else has. Not even my closest comrades. And yet…” Her voice trailed. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if chasing an elusive memory. “They’re complex. Terribly so. Beyond repair, maybe. But the way they looked at me, I still think about her. And I feel like she wants more, too. I’m just unsure of how to face her again.”

A pause.

Pitaya blinked, then recoiled dramatically. “Wait… Are you asssking me for love advice ?!”

Hollyberry’s eyes bulged. “ What?! No! What in the name of witches makes you think… UGH! Its not like that!”

Pitaya’s eyes widened, appalled. “Oh, by the flames, I’m a dragon! What do I know about the fluttering mortal heartsss of cookiesss?!”

“You’re the one who asked!” Hollyberry snapped, half in embarrassment, half in stubbornness. “I didn’t even want to talk about this!”

“You’re awfully defensive,” Pitaya muttered, “Besssides, isn’t ssshe a Beassst Cookie? I thought you went there to defeat her. Why are you having doubtsss now?”

Hollyberry shifted, lips pressed tightly. “My passion has never felt stronger, but I still have doubts about her. I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to ‘fix’ her, because I’m not. I want her to choose for herself. But… I keep thinking…if I just talked to her a little more, if we had one more honest chat, maybe I could understand her.”

Pitaya listened, eyes narrowing. And then, without a word, they began to slowly back up and spread their wings.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Hollyberry lunged forward and grabbed their tail. “Don’t you dare run off now that I’ve said it out loud!”

“Wha—hey!” Pitaya snapped, twisting their body like a fish on a hook. “I am not equipped to handle thissss! Itsss annoying”

Hollyberry didn’t let go. “Tough luck. I admitted something I never say out loud. Now you owe me.”

Pitaya groaned dramatically, muttering under their breath before finally flopping down with a dramatic huff. “…Fine. I’ll sssay this much. You cookiesss ask for answersss like there’s alwaysss a right or wrong one but in reality, thingsss will just fall into place. If you believe this Beassst Cookie meansss well then why not jussst let her be? After what happened in Beassst Yeassst it sseems like you both have a lot to think about.”

“…That actually made sense,” Hollyberry said, stunned. “You’ve been watching cookies more than I thought.”

“Don’t make it weird,” Pitaya grumbled.

“No promises.” A grin grew on her face. “Y’know what? You’re right. Think you could fly me over to Beast Yeast?.”

Pitaya raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I just sssay to let her be?”

“I am not planning to return to the garden. I wish to blow off sssome sssteam and Im thinking of sssparring some monsters in Beast Yeast to clear my head.”

Pitaya recoiled. “I’m not your taxi dragon!”

“Please? Just this once?” Hollyberry asked, giving a knowing smile. “If you do, I’ll owe you one. A real fight next time.”

They groaned, rubbing their temples. “Ugh. Fine. But I’m dropping you off and leaving. No more heart-to-heartsss.”

“Deal!”

A few hours later…

They soared through the skies, the landscape a blur beneath Pitaya’s wings. With their sheer speed, they reached the Beast Yeast region in no time. Pitaya slowed and hovered above a dense part of the forest.

“I’ll wait in the treesss,” they muttered. “Do whatever you need to do.”

Hollyberry straightened her armor and looked down toward the winding paths of Beast Yeast. “Thanks. I—wait.”

She froze.

“I forgot to tell the others I was coming here.”

Pitaya blinked, then smacked their forehead. “Of courssse you did.”

“…Can you cover for me?”

“I knew this would happen,” they groaned, already rising back into the air. “Fine! But only becaussse I don’t want a sssearch party ruining my nap. You owe me again for this.”

“Noted!” Hollyberry called as she leapt down into the forest.

“I am not your taxi dragon!” Pitaya shouted after her.

“Love you too!” she yelled back with a laugh.

Pitaya grumbled and flew away, muttering, “Foolish cookie…”

Chapter Text

The lush canopy of Beast Yeast swayed gently in the breeze. Hollyberry Cookie had taken down at least three monsters since her landing, each blow from her shield chipping away at the frustrations and fog muddling her mind. Her boots thudded steadily over mossy roots and fallen leaves as her breath evened out. She didn’t even know what she was looking for. Maybe just space. Or something. She wasnt quite sure.

She raised her shield again confidently, her awakened form gave her unwavering vigor and she was starting to feel a lot better than before. Fighting the monsters of Beast Yeast reminded the warrior queen of what’s at stake and what needs to be done at the council meeting soon. 

And then she heard it.

A single pluck of a harp string cut through the forest’s noises like a memory. Then a simple melody.

Hollyberry lowered her shield at the sound.

“…A Moment’s Rest..” she murmured.

From her dream?

The notes were faint, but not distant. Not coming from the garden.

"It can’t be…" Hollyberry whispered.

Curious and cautious, she moved carefully. The queen knew she didnt venture that far into Beast Yeast, the garden was much deeper in the forest the last time she found it. The melody grew stronger with every step until she reached a clearing tucked behind a curtain of ivy.

And there she was.

Eternal Sugar Cookie, seated upon the outstretched petals of a slumbering cookievorous flower. It hadn’t tried to bite her, perhaps lulled into a dream by her playing. Her posture was slightly slouched, hands loose on the harp, yet she played on, as though afraid stopping would break whatever fragile peace she’d found.

She looked so tired.

And still, she played.

Hollyberry stepped out from the trees, unsure why her heart had started pounding in her chest.

“Back so soon?” Eternal Sugar Cookie asked, fingers never halting on her harp strings, the notes of A Moment’s Rest weaving into the rustle of the forest.

Hollyberry stood still for a moment, watching her. The beast cookie looked far from beastly now—tired, yes, but not monstrous. Her hair had bits of pollen stuck in it, the sunlight cut through the canopy and gave her an almost ghostlike glow.

“Why aren’t you in your garden?” Hollyberry asked, brushing some dirt off her shield, as if that would distract from the odd circumstances she was witnessing right now. It was so… coincidental.

Eternal Sugar Cookie didn’t look up. “The garden is being cleaned. By the sugar angels,” she said lightly, her voice trailing like the fading hum of a melody. “I’m... a bit weary from our last encounter.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Hollyberry pressed, trying to catch her eyes.

There was a pause. A strange one. Eternal Sugar Cookie’s hands slowed on the harp, and when she finally looked up, her eyes were soft with something unguarded.

“I had a dream,” she admitted. “A strange one. And I found myself leaving the garden.” She tilted her head, gazing at Hollyberry now. “I think... you had the same dream. Didn’t you?”

Hollyberry froze, her heart making a clumsy thud. The queen wasn’t sure what to say; she wasn’t sure if she wanted to confirm it. But something in her face must’ve said enough, because Eternal Sugar Cookie smiled. A small, sad smile.

It looked… odd. Hollyberry hated that smile. It didn’t belong on her face. Hollyberry grimaced in her thoughts, she also found eternal sugar cookies smile unsettling before when her smile masked the sickening nature underneath but now… She looked... hollow. Like it the world just didnt matter anymore. Seeing a cookie so devoid of passion, it hurt Hollyberrys heart. Just a small smile, she wanted to see life bloom from those dull magenta eyes.

Before Hollyberry could stop herself, she blurted out: “Would you like to visit my kingdom?”

Eternal Sugar Cookie stilled. The harp fell silent. 

Neither of them spoke. The weight of the question hung between them.

Hollyberry blinked, realizing what she had just said.

 Oh, no. Why would I say that? She’s dangerous. This isn’t a game.

Hollyberry’s hands twitched at her sides. Her thoughts spiraled.

The kingdom, my people, what am I doing?!

Maybe she could take it back. Maybe Eternal Sugar didn’t hear it properly. Maybe-

“EEEEE!”

The sudden squeal nearly knocked her flat. Hollyberry blinked, startled, only to find herself being pulled into a tight, excited embrace.

Eternal Sugar Cookie practically glowed . “ You want me to come visit!? Really!? I’m going to see the legendary Hollyberry Kingdom?! ”

Hollyberry blinked again. Then she started to laugh. Weirdly, she felt relieved to see Eternal Sugar Cookie smiling like this. Perhaps deep down, Hollyberry knew how to cheer up her other half all along. Hollyberry sighs, making a mental note to set down rules for Eternal Sugar Cookie, knowing that this impromptu decision will need much-needed precautions.

“Well,” she chuckled, “we’ll have to wait a while. We need our dragon for a trip like that.”

But Eternal Sugar Cookie had already stepped back, her grin wild and mischievous. “We don’t need a dragon, hang on tight, dearest!”

And in the very next moment, before Hollyberry could ask what she meant, Eternal Sugar Cookie reached out and lifted her into the skies effortlessly.

“WOAH!”

Eternal Sugar Cookie soared through the skies, carrying Hollyberry Cookie in her arms. They weaved through the clouds, the wind catching in Hollyberry’s hair as Eternal Sugar Cookie laughed, a light and unrestrained. Hollyberry couldn’t help but join in. The thrill of flight, the warmth of laughter.

For a moment, Eternal Sugar Cookie just felt like a friend. 

They slowed.

Eternal Sugar Cookie gently descended, their feet coming to rest on a soft, fluffy cloud. It bounced slightly under their weight, but held firm, as if it had been molded just for them.

From this high perch, the Hollyberry Kingdom stretched out in full view, sunlit berries, the stronghold at the center, flags fluttering with pride. In the distance, the golden spires of the Pure Vanilla Kingdom caught the light.

Hollyberry inhaled deeply. The view always made her heart swell. But then she frowned.

“I know you use magic,” she stated, giving it a light kick with her boot. “But you can just… make this? Out of thin air?”

Eternal Sugar Cookie beamed. “Oh, not from scratch. I borrowed it. A cotton cloud from the sky. I just made it sweeter.” She cupped her hands, swirling her magic. “The sweeter, the bigger. I could fit an entire kingdom on one, if I wanted.”

An entire kingdom.

Hollyberry’s heart dropped.

She remembered. The Hollyberrians suddenly in that garden intoxicated by Eternal Sugar cookies influence. Hollyberry imagined those missing citizens, carried off on clouds of spun sugar to that terrible, gentle garden. A trick, a trap. A coaxing offer of rest disguised as kindness.

She turned sharply, back to the view of her kingdom.

Her hand clenched over her heart.

This… this was reckless. She had brought danger to her kingdom. She knew Eternal Sugar Cookie was not to be trusted. Not truly. Not entirely.

But the regret never came. And that terrified her.

Why didn’t she regret it?

And yet… when she glanced back at Eternal Sugar Cookie.

Hollyberry understood.

The passion in her heart was telling her to take this opportunity to understand her other half more.

Now with a clearer mind, Hollyberry remembered who she was. She was a queen. A protector.

She took a deep breath.

The wind blew through her hair as she looked down from the cotton cloud, seeing her kingdom and her people.

If she were to walk this path, she would do so with open eyes. She glanced at Eternal Sugar Cookie who was also gazing down on the hollyberry kingdom.

With a determined clench of her dough, Hollyberry thought to herself, I must tread carefully.  

Hollyberry Cookie turned, head tilted as she broke the silence, “Even if I did invite you,” she began slowly, “I want to know why you accepted.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie blinked and then chuckled sheepishly“I was so happy to see my dearest again that I jumped at the opportunity,” she said honestly. “I didn’t think much about the external factors. No one in the Garden even knows I’m here.” The beast cookies gaze drifted off to the side almost shyly, twiddling with the folds of her dress.

Hollyberry Cookie nearly laughed. Jumping on opportunities seemed just like her. They really were soulmates, weren’t they? Both of them are acting out on impulse, regardless of others' terms. That kind of wildness had its pros and its cons.

Still gazing down at her kingdom, Hollyberry’s tone turned more serious. “It was an impulse for me, too,” she admitted, crossing her arms. “But I don’t regret it. That said… If you’re staying for the next 18 hours, you’ll do so under my rules.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie tilted her head with a sly grin. “Or what?”

Hollyberry turned sharply. “Are you planning to cause trouble with that tone?”

“No, no,” Eternal Sugar Cookie laughed, hands up in surrender. “Just curious to know what you’d say.”

Hollyberry narrowed her eyes, lips pursed in thought. After a moment, she sighed and said firmly, “Then I will be very unhappy.”

A pause.

Eternal Sugar Cookie’s smile faltered into something gentler. “...Alright,” she said at last. “Then I will follow your rules.”

“Say it clearly.”

“Oh please~,” she scoffed, huffing dramatically. “I’m not a swindler, unlike a certain beast cookie I know…”

“Say it.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie groaned. “Fine, fine~. I, Eternal Sugar Cookie, swear to follow Queen Hollyberry’s rules during my time in her kingdom.”

Hollyberry’s eyes softened, but she didn’t smile just yet. “Good. Here they are.”

“One: You are not to intervene in the lives of the Hollyberrians. You may be among them, observe them, but you are not to meddle.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie tapped her cheek. “Can I speak with them?”

“As long as you’re not trying to change them or their way of life, that should be fine.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie hummed in agreement.

“Two: You will disguise yourself. Some cookies know of the beast legends. If they recognize you, there will be panic.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie frowned at that, but said nothing. With a flick of her wrist, sugar crystals shimmered around her, shifting her imposing form into the shape of a gentle, warm-toned cookie with soft eyes and ordinary clothes. But Hollyberry could still see her, still feel her.

Hollyberry smiled faintly to herself. This is looking good.

But just as the warmth began to settle in her chest, Eternal Sugar Cookie’s voice cut through the calm.

“I have one request in return.”

Hollyberry turned to her, curious.

“I want to explore alone.”

“What?” Hollyberry blinked. “Alone? But I thought you wanted to spend time with me.”

“I do,” Eternal Sugar Cookie said, not unkindly. “But I also want to immerse myself in this experience. To see your world. To understand…” Her gaze flickered down to the kingdom. “Why you chose it. And why you left me for it.”

Silence followed. The wind in the clouds whispered around them.

Hollyberry didn’t know what to say to that. Her chest ached, her thoughts tangled.

But then Eternal Sugar Cookie added, “I’ll meet you again when the hours are almost up. I want to see you one last time before I go.”

A long breath escaped Hollyberry’s lips. “Fine,” she said at last. “You already swore to it. I’ll trust your word.”

—

By this time, the cloud had floated gently down, settling just above the royal castle, nestled behind a patch of thick cottony mist that shielded it from view. 

Hollyberry Cookie sighed as she looked down. Her heartbeat was a mix of excitement and unease. She turned to Eternal Sugar Cookie, who was still leaning with her chin on her hand, gazing over the landscape in quiet awe.

"Is it alright if you wait in my chambers first before you go out?" Hollyberry asked, her voice low but stern. “Just until I get everything in place.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie nodded. “That’s fair.” She straightened up, and with a wave of her hand, her dough turned translucent, no, crystalline. Light bent around her as if refracting through sugar glass. In moments, she disappeared from sight.

Hollyberry blinked, startled. “Where—?”

She felt a warm pressure on her hands interlacing with hers. A voice murmured close to her ear, “I’m still here. Lead the way, dear.”

Hollyberry sighed under her breath. “Alright. Lets go..”

Together, they descended from the cloud, the winds carefully ushering them into one of the lesser-used castle balconies. Hollyberry took quick strides down the long corridors, navigating secret shortcuts with ease. Whenever she heard the approaching steps of castle staff, she expertly swerved them down alternate halls, muttering a few quick excuses when needed.

The guards didn’t suspect a thing.

At last, they arrived at her room, a large chamber of gold-trimmed reds and warm tapestries that smelled faintly of berries and aged wine. Hollyberry slammed the door behind her and spun around, breath slightly uneven from the rush.

With a sharp shove to the air in front of her, she said, “Alright, inside. And no funny business while I’m gone, got it?”

The shimmer of light condensed and slowly Eternal Sugar Cookie reappeared, face amused and curious as she floated down gently onto the carpeted floor.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said with a wink, settling herself onto Hollyberry’s chaise lounge with crossed legs. “This room suits you. Bold. Grand. Regal… definitely smells like you.”

Hollyberry flushed and wagged a finger at her. “Hey, none of that nonsense right now. I’m being serious.”

“I am serious.” Eternal Sugar Cookie stretched out languidly. “I’ll stay put. You have my word.”

“You better. Or else…” Hollyberry hesitated. Her eyes softened for a moment before she turned away, hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll be back shortly.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie waved with a lazy smile. “I’ll be waiting~.”

And with one last lingering glance, Hollyberry Cookie stepped out, closing the door behind her with a quiet thud. Hollyberry barely took a step before a massive shadow swept across the hallway. Her instincts kicked in, and she raised her shield—only to lower it quickly when she saw the familiar snout of Pitaya Dragon Cookie emerging by the grand staircase. Their serpentine form curled gracefully near the garden-facing window, red scales shimmering as their eyes locked onto her.

"You're late," Pitaya rumbled, voice echoing slightly off the hall's marble. "I didn’t ssee you in Beasst Yeasst when I returned to pick you up. Don’t tell me you walked back."

Hollyberry sighed, placing a palm on her face before waving it off with a tired chuckle. "More like got dragged back by sentiment." Her shield clanked softly against her armor as she approached them. "I'll explain, but maybe...not while you're like that ."

The dragon huffed, more amused than annoyed, before a swirl of flame engulfed their body. In moments, Pitaya stood before her in their cookie form, stretching slightly like they hadn’t used this body in a while. "Alright then! explain."

So she did, briefly but honestly. About Eternal Sugar Cookie, the harp, the strange pull she felt. How Sugar seemed fragile, hurt, yet... just as dangerous. Pitaya’s brow twitched the moment she mentioned bringing her to the kingdom.

“You what ?” Their arms crossed, one clawed finger tapping impatiently. “Hollyberry, I thought the beasst cookie issue was sssettled . You beat her, barely, and now you invited her into the kingdom?”

“I know,” Hollyberry groaned, tugging at her bangs. “Spur of the moment. Look she’s not here to bring harm, merely observation. I know I am acting… selfishly but the beasts are complicated. I want to figure this out before the council meeting.”

Hollyberry smiled sheepishly. “That’s why I need you to stick around. Step in if things get dicey. Not that they will but…”

“…I’ve never fought the beast cookies before,” Pitaya interrupted, a grin spreading across their face. “Could be fun.”

“It would be an interesting duel I agree!” Hollyberry chuckled, exasperated. “Just… keep an eye out. And keep yourself from setting the palace on fire.”

Pitaya laughed, fiery and sharp. “No promises.”

Later that evening, Hollyberry gathered four of her trusted cookies: Wildberry Cookie, Raspberry Cookie, her son King Royal Berry, and Queen Jungle Berry, whose eyes flicked with seriousness. Their gazes were heavy on her as she finished her explanation.

“She’s only here for eighteen hours,” Hollyberry repeated. “She is currently in my chambers but I promise she means no harm. I have full responsibility for her. If she so much as twitches funny, I’ll handle it myself.”

There was a pause.

“I trust you, Mother,” Royal Berry finally said. “But we may need to have some… precautionary… measures?” Jungle Berry nodded in agreement, though her posture stayed defensive. 

Wildberry stepped forward. “I’ll double the guards around the borders.”

Raspberry Cookie put a hand to her chin in thought, “I can pull some strings in the house of Raspberry for civilian security.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, but…” Hollyberry Cookie said gently, her voice calm. “Eternal Sugar Cookie isn’t here to cause any harm, she’s only here to observe. Besides, it’s hard to enjoy yourself when you’re being watched so closely, don’t you think?”

“Queen Mother, this may be our best option if we go through with the plan,” Raspberry Cookie said firmly. “It’s for the sake of every cookies safety!”

“But it would drain resources we need for the Odyssey,” Wildberry Cookie countered, brow furrowed. “That trip is only a few days away.”

The room fell into murmuring until one of the royal cookies stepped forward.

“Then we’ll keep an eye on her ourselves!” Bumbleberry Cookie declared, arms crossed, eyes bright with resolve.

“In civilian clothes,” another added quickly. “She won’t even notice a thing!”

The room buzzed with sudden excitement as the Hollyberrians bounced between plans of surveillance and hospitality.

“Let’s show her the best of Hollyberry Kingdom while we’re at it.”

“Maybe a tour! The market, the arena, oh! The honey wine tasting!”

“Don’t forget we’re supposed to be watching her,” someone reminded with a pointed look.

“We can do both,” another said with a grin. “It’s the Hollyberry way!”

“No beast cookie could stand against our finest delights!”

“Oh please, you just want to advertise your produce!”

Hollyberry put her hands on her hips, trying not to laugh. “You lot are more excited about this than I expected.”

One of them grinned. “If she’s a threat, your majesty, we’ll be ready. But if she’s not… then it’s our duty to show her what it means to be a Hollyberrian!”

Something warm stirred in Hollyberry’s chest. They remembered the risks, but they remain open-minded as ever.

They were still Hollyberrians through and through.

And Hollyberry found herself silently hoping that Eternal Sugar Cookie would notice that too..

Chapter Text

The streets of the Hollyberry Kingdom stretched before her like a bright ribbon of chaos and color. Sunlight bounced from golden windows and polished shields. Bells rang, vendors called, capes fluttered, and laughter danced above the cobbled stones.

Sugarberry Cookie walked quietly through it all, her dainty dress brushing past jostling crowds, her sunhat casting soft shade over her glassy eyes.

Sugarberry Cookie.

She giggled to herself at the name, a blend of hers and her dearest's. A sweet, silly thing. Proof, she liked to think, that they were meant to be one. A single dough, bound in name and soul.

She looked up from the bustling market, and there it was: the Hollyberrian palace

The kingdom looked grand. Regal banners, warm sun, and proud laughter, it burst with life. But not the kind that lasts. 

It was grand in a fleeting way.

Everything sparkled with the kind of life that could vanish tomorrow, like bubbles rising and popping in a drink. That’s what fascinated her. Not the grandeur, but the expiration date stamped invisibly on everything she saw.

Fleeting. 

Fleeting. 

Fleeting.  

How often the sun dims. How easily a flag might fall. Eternal Happiness surely cannot exist in a place like this.

A voice called out, light and chipper. Eternal Sugar turned. A small cluster of civilians stood by the market square, smiling as they waved to her.

“Good morning, Lady Sugar!”

“Have you visited the cliffside baths yet? The view is breathtaking this time of year!”

Eternal Sugar smiled faintly, responding politely, but she knew what this was. These weren’t just friendly locals. They were the same cookies she had once taken from their homes, brought into the palace in her desperate ploy to tether Hollyberry to the kingdom. It had been a few days ago, but here they were, back in their ordinary lives, wearing smiles like armor. Watching.

Her fingers twitched at her side. They must have been assigned to keep an eye on her. As much as she disliked the term beast cookie, she could not shake the feeling of being one now. Watched like a creature that could lash out at any moment. Was her happiness too much for them to bear?

Their cheer was genuine, though, she could sense the passion in their vigor. And yet, beneath it, she just couldn’t help but feel the way she did.

She took a breath and straightened her posture.

No use dwelling. She chose instead to focus on her day.

She stopped at a small fruit stall. The farmer, broad-shouldered and berry-stained, grinned widely at her approach. 

“Fine berries today! Fresh-picked, sun-sweet! You look like a cookie of taste, miss, care to try a sample?”

She smiled. “They smell wonderful.” She picked one and smelled its aroma. “How did you get them?”

The farmer brightened, puffing out his chest. “Hard work, mostly! Every morning before dawn, I’m out there digging, watering, checking the vines. My jammed fingers and sore arms’ll tell you all about it! But it’s worth it, you’ve never had flavor like a berry grown with love and hard labor.”

She selected a few and arranged them into a little basket. “They’re lovely,” she said, handing him coins. “Tell me something, if you don’t mind...”

She lingered a moment, watching his hands return to the crates, his breath still a little proud from her compliment.

“Don’t you ever grow tired of this?” she asked.

The farmer blinked. “Tired? Of course I do! But I keep going.”

“Why?” she asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well... this is my patch of the world, you know? Feeds the kingdom. Feeds me. Feeds my kids.”

She nearly scoffed. Jam and sunlight could not keep the soul full forever.

The crops will wither someday. The vines will stop giving. And when they do… he will continue to be hungry. He and his family. Such is the nature of cookies to live tirelessly for naught.

“Miss?”

The weight of her thoughts loosened as she looked up, meeting his gaze.

“Are you happy?” she suddenly asked.

The farmer didnt seem to mind; instead, he smiled widely, missing a tooth. “Some days more than others. But I reckon I am!”

She nodded, thanked him again, and walked away with her berry basket.

Behind her, Sugarberry could hear the farmer’s voice: “Hope you had a good day at the market, miss!”

A good day... 

She almost smiled at the simplicity of it. 

As if days could be measured in baskets and berries.

Sugarberry wandered until she entered the training fields, where shouts and the clack of weapons rang in the air. There, amid the sun and sweat, a young knight cookie gritted her teeth, struggling to raise a bow. Her hands trembled, her arms shook, but she refused to quit.

The beast cookie watched silently from the shade of a tree until the knight finally loosed an arrow that landed, miraculously, in the center of the target. The cookie gasped, knees nearly buckling in surprise.

“You did it,” SugarBerry Cookie said from the shade.

The knight blinked, startled, but walked over to the cookie, who waved her over. “Oh! Thank you, I didn’t see you there.” 

“You were very focused.” She handed her the berry basket. “You should have something sweet after all that.”

The knight flushed with embarrassment and pride. “Thank you, miss. But… I can’t just take this.” She rummaged in her satchel and pulled out a small pack of clean bandages. “Here. For any cracks. Seems like a fair trade.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie looked at the offering. 

Being given something… Strange. 

The knight tilted her head. “Are you okay?”

She lifted her eyes and offered a small smile, then gestured to the tree beside her.

“Please, do rest. I would love to hear the reasons behind your relentless training. Ah, but do stay standing, sitting after such exertion can be terribly unkind to your dough.”

The knight stood beside Sugarberry cookie and shared her story. She had grown up with little, no family crest, no lineage to boast of, just a dream and a bow she’d carved herself. In the Hollyberry Kingdom, anyone could become a knight; that was true, but the noble houses had tutors, armor, and jamlines that could stretch back generations of great Hollyberrian warriors. 

She had none of those. Only determination, and bruised dough from pulling her bowstring day after day until her shoulders ached. Still, she trained. Sugarberry listened quietly.

“Do you think you’ll tire of this?”

The knight nodded without hesitation. “Probably. But I want to get stronger anyway.”

“Why?”

“I want to protect someone. Even if I’m not good at it yet.”

Such sweetness in her resolve… yet so naive. 

The world has a way of grinding purity into dust, of twisting noble intentions into something unrecognizable. Wanting to protect someone was a beautiful reason… until it wasn't. She remembered a time when she had thoughts naive like these. To protect. To nurture. Until the very thing she sought to protect recoiled from her touch.

“Are you happy?”

The knight gave a crooked smile. “I think I will be, if I can keep getting better.”

Again, Sugarberry nodded, thanked her, and walked on.

 She doesn't understand either. But she burns so brightly, trying.

Sugarberry walked to the palace. It was alive with hustle and bustle, nobles in bright silks, guards in polished armor, servants weaving through the crowd with practiced grace. Many of them likely shared Hollyberry’s heritage, a lineage carved into the very stone of these marbled halls.

Sugarberry drifted through it all like a ghost, untouched, unnoticed. Until she found her: a maid scrubbing the floors, her hands moving with weary rhythm, wiping and wringing, wiping and wringing.

Sugarberry waited until the maid reached the end of her route, then stepped forward quietly.

“Your dough,” she said softly. “It’s blistered.”

The maid startled, blinking up at her. Then, glancing down at her raw, worn palms, she gave a sheepish shrug. “Oh… yes. It happens.”

Sugarberry unwrapped the bandages the knight had given her and gently wrapped the maid’s hands. The maid stared at her, then smiled gratefully.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“You’re the kind one,” Eternal Sugar Cookie replied, her tone almost whimsical. “Tell me something… what if the dishes could clean themselves?”

The maid let out a breathy laugh. “I suppose that’d be amazing. Less work for me.” She paused, then added more softly, “But… I like this. I like seeing the palace shine after I’m done. It feels like I made a difference.”

Sugarberry tilted her head, watching the way the light caught the worn edges of the maid’s sleeves.

 “Do you think you’ll tire of this?”

“Maybe when I’m old and creaky.”

“Why keep going?”

The maid sat back on her heels, thoughtful. “Because someone has to. And… because it makes me proud. Even if no one notices, I know it’s there.”

“Are you happy?” Sugarberry asked softly.

The maid paused, then smiled. “I think… yes. Especially when cookies like you remind me why I care.”

From her apron pocket, she pulled out a small bow, it was soft pink with a white trim, slightly wrinkled but lovingly folded.

“I don’t have much… but maybe this can make you happy too.”

Sugarberry took it in silence, fingers brushing the worn fabric. Her mouth twitched, almost a smile. She stared at the bow for a long while after the maid had gone.

She could still feel the maid’s pride. She was modest, yet steady. It stirred something bittersweet in Sugarberry’s chest. A feeling she couldn’t seem to grasp.

She looked at her reflection in a palace window and tucked the bow into her dress.

In the quiet plaza framed by houses with frosting roofs, she found a group of children huddled in a circle. She could hear sniffling noses and muffled cries. One cookie, no taller than her arm, sat on the ground with tears running down her cheeks. In her hands was a torn plush, shaped like a cake hound, with its stuffing poking through the center.

Another child stood a little further from the cookie, looking extremely guilty.

“I didn’t mean to!” they wailed. “We were just playing!”

Sugarberry Cookie stepped forward, gentle and slow. “What’s wrong?”

The crying cookie looked up at her, wiping her eyes, and held out the plush without a word.

“Ah…” Sugar took it carefully in her hands. The tear was wide and jagged, clumsily made from rough play. Without hesitation, she took the bow she got from the maid from her pocket and used it to fashion a neat, tidy patch, tucking the stuffing back inside and knotting the bow just above the tear. The plush looked… different now. A little lopsided, but with charm.

“There.” She handed it back. “Now it has character.”

The cookie gasped, then clutched the toy to her chest. “Thank you, Nice Lady Cookie!”

She giggled at the young one's sincerity, “It’s Sugarberry Cookie~”

“That's a nice name! You look like a sugarberry tart!” another child piped up. “Oh, are you from a royal house? You have berry in your name.”

“Royal house? Like the Hollyberry family? Are you part of the Hollyberry family, Miss Sugarberry cookie?”

A mischievous grin found itself on Sugarberrys face. “Hehe. Not yet~.”

“Wanna play with us, Sugarberry?” one asked, holding up a soft cloth ball.

She blinked. “Play?”

“It’s a dodgeball game!” the cookie explained. “You start in the center, and the cookies on the outside throw the ball at you! If you catch it, you get a life! If you don’t, then you have to not to get hit or else you’re out.”

Sugar looked at the ball, contemplating her hours. “And the goal… is to survive?”

“Yup!” said the child cheerfully. “The Inside cookies win if the last cookie survives the last three shots. The outside cookies win if they tag all the inside cookies out!”

She studied the circle, replaying the rules in her mind. One life. One mistake, and you’re gone. But if you dared to reach out, if you caught the danger, you were given another chance.

Oddly poetic, she thought, a a child’s game dressed in the metaphor of her own quiet fears.

“I… I suppose I can try.”

As they played, it didn’t go well.

Sugarberry Cookie moved stiffly, unused to the quick pace and sudden dodging. She relied a lot on her wings and wasn’t used to roughhousing on her two feet alone. She yearned to take flight, but she kept it pressed in. She stumbled, rolled once, and landed flat on her back with a soft “oof.”

The children ran to her, worried. “Are you okay?”

She sat up with a sigh, brushing crumbs off her arms. “This game is… cruel. It's not for me.”

Laughter boomed from behind them.

“What's going on here?”

Sugarberry cookie turned around almost immediately.

Hollyberry Cookie appeared behind her, dressed in simple clothes, a casual tunic, and boots still dusted with mud from the training yard. Her hair was tied back loosely, cheeks flushed from the wind.

The kids squealed in delight. “Queen Hollyberry!”

“Goodness,” Hollyberry grinned, helping Sugar to her feet. “Why are you on the ground, Eter- … Ahem! Uhm… Miss?”

Sugarberry took her hand and rose, giggling softly at Hollyberry’s slip. The fluster in her voice. The charm in her trying to play along. It made the beast cookie feel oddly giddy, like they were strangers meeting for the first time. Like a story beginning again from a different page.

“She kept losing,” one of the kids said matter-of-factly.

“I see,” Hollyberry chuckled.

Sugarberry opened her mouth, already shifting back, hands raised in mock surrender. “W-Well, perhaps I’ve had enough experiences for one day—”

“Oh, don’t back out so soon! I’ll join the outside team. Let’s see if you can survive me, Sugarberry.”

Sugar looked up at her. “You… you wish to play too?”

“Why not? It’s good for the heart!”

They started again.

At first, Eternal Sugar stumbled just as much—her steps cautious, her skirts tangling around her ankles, a clear mark for every throw. The first ball grazed her arm. The second missed by an inch. She flinched. Braced. Waited for the sting.

But then—she caught one.

It hit her palms with a jolt. The shock of it traveled through her arms, but her grip held firm.

A breathless pause. Then—cheering.

Then another ball came. She ducked. Then spun away. She caught again. A rhythm bloomed in her chest, something quick and warm. Her feet felt lighter. Her laugh escaped without permission.

Across from her, Hollyberry grinned wide, like a warrior catching scent of a worthy rival.

The children cried out as one of their own was struck. Then another. Slowly, the circle around her thinned. One by one, the outside players were whittled down—until only two remained: Hollyberry, towering and smug, and a single child beside her, eyes bright and determined.

Sugar stood alone in the center.

She was breathless. Flushed. Alive.

Then, Hollyberry winked at the child, winding back her arm.

The throw was not meant to hit. The ball arced high, sailing just over Sugar berry’s reach.

The child leapt, caught it in both hands.

A perfect pass.

The child flung it back with every ounce of strength in their tiny body.

Just as time seemed to hold its breath. Sugar pivoted.

The ball brushed past her curls, landing just a few feet behind Hollyberry, indicating the game had ended, and that Sugarberry Cookie has emerged victorious.

The inside team erupted with cheers. The children rushed Sugarberry, wrapping their arms around her and tackling her back to the ground in a heap of laughter and crumbs. She laughed, eyes bright, cheeks pink.  This feeling, she hadn’t felt it in ages. 

She had done so much in her long life. Or at least, she thought she had. But somehow, this moment, floury mud on her dough, giggles in her ears, tiny arms clutching her sides, felt fuller, realer, more satisfying than anything she could name.

Off to the side, she could see Hollyberry standing quietly, watching it all unfold. 

That warmth… that precious, impossible moment…. Suddenly was gone. It unraveled from her like a pulled thread.

The field suddenly felt too big. The air felt too quiet. The crumbs on her arms, the laughter—they vanished before she could catch them.

“Over?”

 Her chest tightened.

 “These moments… why do they feel so brief? Why must joy always come in fragments?”

She curled tighter into herself, desperate to preserve what remained of the feeling, like clutching snow in warm hands. She wanted to believe it could last. She wanted—no, needed—it to.

But joy was like a bird. And it always flew.

“Miss Sugarberry? Are you okay?”

Sugarberry Cookie looked up slowly.

It was the child from before, the one with the repaired plush, the one who’d cried. Their toy, now mended with Sugarberry’s own ribbon, was clutched close to their chest.

She blinked. Her vision blurred, not from tears, but memory.

The question echoed louder in her head than it had been spoken.

Are you okay?

Her breath hitched.

A storm rolled in her mind. Her gaze unfocused. The warm grass below her no longer felt real.

“Okay…?” she murmured, the word strange on her tongue. “Am I okay…?”

Images flashed unbidden, faces she failed, promises she couldn’t keep, warmth stolen too soon. A ribbon in the dirt. A hand reaching, then gone. A voice shouting her name as a door closed behind it forever.

She tried to look at the child, but instead she saw ghosts.

She muttered, barely audible, “Do you think… it’s wrong to want things to stay?”

The child tilted their head. “Huh?”

She felt her voice quickening. “If something feels good… should we hold onto it? Even if it doesn’t want to be held?”

The little cookie took a step back, clutching the toy in their arms.

“Why do they always leave?” Sugarberry pressed. Her voice rose, fragile but spiraling. “Why do moments vanish just as they start to matter? Why do cookies say they’re happy and then…”

She stopped herself, but her hand was already reaching out. The child stared, frozen, confusion morphing into a strange sense of fear.

“Sugarberry Cookie…”  Hollyberry’s voice came from behind. But Sugarberry couldn’t focus on it. Her eyes were glassy, her hand still trembling in the air.

“Don’t leave…” she whispered.

“Sugarberry Cookie.”

“Why not stay and be happy?”

Hollyberry quickly stepped forward. She placed herself squarely between Sugarberry and the child, her stance solid 

“That’s enough!” she commanded, louder now. Then after a split moment, she let out a controlled breath, “That’s enough.”

Sugarberry was taken out of their trance.

Her outstretched hand hovered for a second longer… then slowly fell to her side. She didn’t move. Just breathed. Shallow. Uneven.

The child peeked from behind Hollyberry’s side, hugging the toy tightly.

Hollyberry lowered herself to meet the young cookies eye level, keeping her voice warm but firm. “She’s just sad that the game had to end. That’s all.”

The child frowned. “We… we can play again. Later. Right?”

A pause. Then Hollyberry smiled, nodding. “Of course.”

She tousled the child’s hair. “Run along now.”

The little one gave one last glance before scampering off without another word.

In the hush that followed, Eternal Sugar Cookie stood still. Hollyberry Cookie hadn’t said a word since stepping between her and the young cookie. She hadn’t even turned to look at her. Her back remained turned, quiet in the dim light.

Would she say it was over?

Would she call off their deal?

She wouldn’t be wrong to. That child didn’t deserve to be caught in the mess of her. Eternal Sugar Cookie, the so-called beast, whose grief and hope always seemed to burst at the seams at the wrong time. She had been trying, really trying, but after so many years of failure, wasn’t she allowed to slip?

Wasn’t one child just one among the millions she couldn’t save?

She felt her lip tightening at the memory.

Then Hollyberry turned.

Her expression wasn’t stern or cold. It was soft. Tired, maybe, but not angry.

“You alright?” Hollyberry asked, voice low.

Eternal Sugar blinked.

I’m not here to scold you. You didn’t mean to scare them.” The queen paused. “But I do think you could use a drink.”

“…A drink?”

“I’ve got a place in mind.” giving her a half-smile, the warrior queen began walking to a certain direction. “Come on.”

She tilted her head, wings fluttering once in the dim air. Her feet began to follow.

Not because she had anything left to say. Not even because she thought she deserved it.

But because something in Hollyberry’s tone, in her ease, pulled at her like gravity.

How simple. How strange these Hollyberrians were.

Eternal Sugar Cookie’s eyes lifted to the darkening sky. The stars were beginning to blink awake.

And somewhere beyond those stars… was something she hadn’t yet grasped.

She followed Hollyberry into the evening.

I wonder where my dearest is taking me?

Chapter Text

The Hollyberry Tavern was quiet when they arrived. It’s lanterns casting flickers on the wooden beams and polished berrywood tables. There were no customers, just the warm clink of glassware being cleaned in the back.

Hollyberry opened the door and gestured inside. “Told the manager to keep it open for us tonight.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie stepped in, blinking slowly. “You went to all this trouble?”

“It’s not trouble. The Hollyberrians won’t miss one day of bar tales,” she said, smirking. “Also, you can drop the disguise now. No one’s watching.”

There was a moment of hesitation. Then Sugarberry Cookie’s form shimmered, and the veil fell.

Her soft wings unfolded in a lazy flutter, catching the tavern light in delicate ribbons. The faint glow returned to her eyes and the scent of sugared wind followed like perfume. But her attire was more casual.

A flowy blouse with lacy sugar weave. Soft pastel trousers fitted neatly. Still elegant, still unmistakably her, but far more modern than the Eternal Sugar Cookie most knew.

Hollyberry raised a brow. “New look?”

“I saw something similar at the market,” Eternal Sugar murmured. “I liked it. So I replicated it with sugar fibers.”

“You made it on the spot?”

“With magic,” she said, lips twitching. “Naturally.”

Hollyberry snorted and waved her to the center table. “Come on. I had them chill the berry wine.” Popping the cork with practiced ease, the warrior queen poured two glasses.

Eternal Sugar Cookie sat, folding her wings close as she eyed the drink curiously.

“This is more grounded than I expected,” she giggled.“I thought you’d end our day with a sky dive or a wild duel.”

“You already had a full day of adventure,” Hollyberry Cookie laughed in return, tipping her own glass toward her. “Figured you deserved a quiet evening.”

Raising her glass in return, Eternal Sugar Cookie smiled.

“To simplicity, then.”

They drank.

And drank.

Conversation flowed naturally, polite at first, then warmer, then downright gleeful. Somewhere between the third glass and the fifth, Eternal Sugar Cookie was hiccuping over her own giggles while Hollyberry Cookie slapped the table laughing at one of her own terrible jokes.

At some point, they began stacking their empty cups into a pyramid, the two cookies making some sort of challenge out of it.

Small berries, flung from the end of spoons, aimed toward the tiny openings of the stacked glasses.

Taking aim Hollyberry gave a quick glance to her drinking companion. “Watch and learn, your holiness.”

A berry soared and landed in the very top cup. Thunk!

“Ha! Nailed it!”

Eternal Sugar Cookie gasped, then broke into applause, half-bowing dramatically in her seat. “Astounding! Do all queens train in the art of party games?”

“Only the best ones.”

Hollyberry leaned back in her. The laughter still clung to the corners of her smile, but her gaze softened as it landed on Eternal Sugar Cookie.

She had wondered, truly, how this day would turn out. How this enigmatic cookie—the so-called "beast", would react to the Hollyberry Kingdom’s warmth, noise, and relentless spirit.

She didn’t know if her kingdom’s joy would reach her. If all their colors and traditions would just pass over her like sunlight through glass. She feared the polite mask would stay on. That the stories of shared food and silly games and loud taverns would be met with a nod and nothing more.

But… she'd laughed today. Genuinely. She'd stumbled, played, asked questions, been messy and alive in a way Hollyberry had only hoped to see.

Hollyberry smiled to herself. She’s warming up.

Her eyes drifted to the berry-shaped clock on the wall. The hour was drawing close. Soon, Eternal Sugar would have to leave.

She tilted her head toward her guest, resting her chin on one hand.

“So… how’d you find your visit?” she asked warmly.

No answer.

Blinking, the warrior queen looked closer.

Eternal Sugar Cookie had slumped forward slightly over the table, cheeks rosy and flushed. Her finger dragged lazy little shapes in a puddle of spilled juice. Little doodles of hearts, flowers, and a questionable-looking cake hound. Her wings fluttered idly, like they, too, were a bit tipsy.

“…Oh berries,” Hollyberry muttered under her breath, stifling a laugh. “She’s out of it.”

She watched as Eternal Sugar Cookie tried to stack two more berry cups, only for them to fall with a tiny clink. She made a sound like “hmph” and went back to doodling with all the grace of a noblewoman attempting finger painting.

She’s funny juice drinker, Hollyberry thought, fondness blooming in her chest.

She poured herself another glass and leaned her cheek on her palm, watching her quietly.

Eternal Sugar Cookie stared back as if she’d caught the tail end of Hollyberry’s thoughts.

“My visit… It was fun,” finally replying, voice soft and oddly serious. “I can really feel it. The passion in your people.”

Hollyberry smiled at that, warm and relieved. “I’m glad. That’s all I ever wanted you to see here.”

There was a pause. Eternal Sugar Cookie tilted her head, a lopsided grin tugging at her lips. She rested her chin on the table, fingers idly spinning an empty cup.

“Hollyberry. Are you happy?”

Thinking it was a tipsy ramble, Hollyberry chuckled “I am most days. Today, especially.”

The beast cookie hummed, eyes half-lidded. “That’s good. Very good… You know…”

She turned the cup upside down and rolled it back and forth. “When the little cookies used to say things to me like, ‘You make me so happy!’ I’d smile and say ‘Of course!’ Because that’s what I’m for, right? That’s what I was made for.”

Hollyberry’s brows drew in as she felt the conversation becoming a bit heavier, leaning into something more personal.

“But sometimes…” Eternal Sugar continued, still watching the cup, “I wonder… how do they know what that feeling is? Who gave it to them before me? Was it always there? Were they just… born with it?”

She laughed quietly but it didn’t sound like a drunk laugh. The laugh sounded like someone on the edge of a question too big for the world to answer.

“That’s why I love it when they tell me they’re happy. It helps me know what it’s supposed to feel like.”

The queen stayed silent but felt something drop in her chest. Still she didn’t interrupt, instead nodding to let Eternal Sugar Cookie continue.

“And at the heart of it, I thought… if I could regain the Soul Jam of Happiness, both parts of it, maybe I could finally know what it all meant. That’s why when you came. I thought that I needed you. That you were the true soul jam. That if I could convince you, and win you over… I’d have the light of happiness again.

Her voice quieted.

“But after our fight… after I flooded the garden… I realized something.” She looked up, the grin long faded. “You aren’t the same cookie as the soul jam I once knew. You’re something else entirely. Something newer. Fiercer. This… passion of yours. I think it changed the jam itself. I can accept that now. It’s not the Soul Jam of Happiness anymore.”

“It’s the Soul Jam of Passion.” Hollyberry finally replied.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of the empty tavern and the quiet fizz of forgotten berry juice.

It all made sense now.

She’s the bringer of happiness… who doesn’t even know what happiness feels like.

How could someone be expected to give what they’d never received? How could a cookie be created to bring joy and be given nothing but power and obligation?

It was no excuse for what she’d done, Hollyberry couldn’t forget what happened in her garden, but now… now it all made sense.

The guilt, the desperate rigidity, the way Eternal Sugar Cookie clung to her role like a raft in a storm.

And strangely, Hollyberry felt something in herself quietly resonate. A kinship, maybe. She’d spent so long unsure of her place in the world, her title and legacy felt more like a burden than a gift. While she had run from it all, Eternal Sugar Cookie had run toward it. So desperate to fulfill her purpose, even if it meant hurting herself and others to do it.

Hollyberry reached for her glass, then stopped, staring into the dregs of the juice.

“…Eternal Sugar Cookie.”

The other cookie blinked up blearily. “Hmm~?”

Hollyberry opened her mouth. The words were there, tangled, uncertain. Where does this lead us? I can’t follow your path. I won’t. But what do I say to a cookie who has never learned to feel the very thing they were baked to give?

Her jaw clenched then exhaled slowly.

“…Never mind,” The queen huffed, voice gentler now. “Let’s save it for another time.”

“Ooh~ what were we talking about? Oh right! Fizzy bubbles~” Eternal Sugar Cookie giggled, swaying in her seat, reaching for the nearest cup again.

Hollyberry snorted, reaching over to pull it away. “Okay. That’s enough berry juice for you.”

Hollyberry glanced once more at the berry-shaped clock behind the bar. The hourglass had run its last grain.

“…It’s time.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie blinked, the daze of juice still soft in her eyes, but something in Hollyberry’s voice cut through the haze. Her laughter faded as she straightened herself.

“…Ah. I see.” Her wings gave a faint, unsteady twitch. “My apologies. I forget sometimes… My dough is mostly sugar. Even the softest juices can affect me more than they should. But—” she touched a hand to her head, “—I can clear it with time.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Hollyberry said, smiling lightly. “Can you still fly back?”

“Yes, my mind is much clearer now.”

“Good to hear, I’ll walk you out.”

They stepped out through the back of the tavern, into the quiet dark, outside the Hollyberry kingdom. The stars were scattered above them like powdered sugar, and the only light came from a distant frosting lamp swinging gently in the breeze.

Soon they reached the edge of the woods.

Eternal Sugar Cookie took a few steps forward, her wings fluttering faintly before suddenly ceasing.

The beast cookie turned back and bowed apologetically.

The gesture caught Hollyberry off guard, and she straightened. “What is it?” she asked.

Eternal Sugar Cookie’s voice was calm now. Steady. “Do you remember… our dream? The one we shared.”

Hollyberry’s gaze softened. “I do.”

“You said, ‘I don’t regret it. I’m honored. I did what I had to do, what anyone would be proud to do.’ That last line.” Her eyes lifted, glinting faintly in the dark. “That… was the lie.”

The beast cookie pouted a bit, before showing a more serious expression. “Not every cookie chooses that path. Not willingly. Sacrifice and duty aren’t always noble. Sometimes, they’re forced. And sometimes, we wear them because we must, not because we’re proud to.”

She took a breath.

“I lied, too. I said I enjoyed my time in the kingdom, and I did. But I couldn’t stop seeing it. The fleetingness. The fragility of it all. In this world of cookies, no matter how joyful, can’t outrun time. Can’t outrun pain.”

Her wings unfolded behind her, catching the breeze. Lighting up the night around them with a sugary glow.

“That’s why I will return to my garden,” she said. “I will make it perfect. I will make it eternal. The safest, most beautiful place in all of Earthbread. So that when you return…” she reached down, cupping Hollyberry’s hands in her own, “you’ll never want to leave again.”

She began to lift from the ground, wings shimmering softly.

Hollyberry said nothing at first, just watched, caught between something pained and something warm. Once, this kind of talk had wounded her, grated against her very soul. But now, after everything…

She understood. Even if she didn’t agree.

But as Eternal Sugar Cookie rose into the air, something stirred in Hollyberry’s chest. A sudden clarity. The words she couldn’t find back at the tavern took place in her mind.

She ran a step forward, cupping her hands to her mouth.

“Eternal Sugar Cookie!”

The flying cookie paused midair, her wings fluttering in place.

“One day, I’ll help you find happiness, too! You don't have to do it alone!”

There was a beat of silence.

Then, from above, a soft, lilting giggle.

“I’m already happy, dearest!” Eternal Sugar Cookie called down with a wink.

Hollyberry smiled, bittersweet and proud, and raised her hand in farewell as the ethereal cookie drifted higher and higher, the soft glow of her wings fading into the stars.

She stayed there long after Eternal Sugar Cookie disappeared, just watching the sky.

Then, at last, she turned back toward the city.

The road to the Odyssey awaited, and this time, her steps felt firm beneath her.

Whatever the Dark Enchantress was planning with the Beast Cookies, Hollyberry would fight it not only for her kingdom.

But for her, too.

She wouldn’t give up on Eternal Sugar Cookie.

Not yet. Not ever.

Chapter Text

The odyssey Castle garden at night. Stars scatter like sugar crystals in the sky. Hollyberry Cookie sits under a tree, her goblet half-full, expression quiet for once. The candy crickets hum.

She arrived a few hours ago. Her belongings are being prepared by Wildberry (at his insistance) and she had nothing to do but wait. The queen knew it was best to wait inside but she was never one to follow decorum anyway. 

Soon she heard Footsteps approach.

“…Didn’t expect to find you here.” Pure Vanilla Cookie said, revealing his presence.

“Didn’t expect to be here.” the warrior queen chuckles low, then takes a sip. “But it’s quiet. Easier to think when there’s nothing to fight.”

Pure Vanilla Cookie sits beside her, resting his staff gently on the grass. His easygoing nature was always so relaxing to be around, if it were Dark Cacao cookie she would have been scolded about efficiency of the meeting. She looked at her vanillian companion, motioning him to continue the conversation.

Pure Vanilla hums in thought before responding, "I’ve received word from Dark Cacao and Golden Cheese. They’ll be returning soon."

Hollyberry Cookie laughs at that. “‘Soon,’ they say! With how far their kingdoms are? Hah! We’ll be old and crumbly by the time they get here.”

 “Then it’s good that you and I are such close neighbors.”The Vanillian replied, giggling at his companions boisterous attitude

The Hollyberrian huffed amusedly, “Close enough to hear you nagging from across the border thats for sure.”

They both laugh softly. But the mirth fades, replaced by a shared heaviness. The queens eyes then lidded with seriousness.

“…The winds are changing, Vanilla. War might be coming. I can feel it. The beasts are stirring. The land’s gone restless.”

Pure Vanilla Cookie nodded, “It has been for a while.”

Hollyberry Cookie clutched the dough in her palms, deciding to confide in Pure Vanilla Cookie, “I’ve fought monsters. Dark Enchantress Cookie. Dragons. But nothing… nothing like her.”

“…your other half?”

Hollyberry Cookie nodded, “Eternal Sugar cookie...” The name leaves her mouth like a bitter sweet syrup. “I went there expecting a battle. Was ready to swing my shield without a word. But she- Vanilla, she greeted me with open arms! She even gave back my soul jam.”

She grips the goblet tighter.

“She’s twisted, no doubt. She thinks she brings happiness, but what she gives is sweetened chains. And yet… I’ve never met a Cookie who saw through me so easily. For the first time, I felt... understood.”

She trails off.

“I want to believe there's something worth saving in her. That she’s not just… lost. But something happened recently that made me realize that it may take more than a millenia for her to heal. Maybe even longer than when I am around. What if Ill never be able to forgive her?”

Pure Vanilla is quiet for a long moment.

Soon enough the Vanillian looks up at his Hollyberrian companion, “Trying to understand someone who’s hurt us… it isn’t always about forgiveness. But sometimes, understanding makes forgiveness a little easier. Still, it’s your choice, Hollyberry. You don’t owe that to any cookie.”

Hollyberry Cookie became silent at that. After a moment she brought her gaze to the odyssey castle, lost in thought.

“Have you forgiven your other half?”

"..."

Pure Vanilla Cookie followed her gaze, pondering the question with great care. Hollyberry always appreciated that about Pure Vanilla, when it came to insightful conversations he always took them seriously.

Soon he nodded, softly, "Yes. I have.”

Hollyberry is quiet for a moment, drummimg her hands on her armor like a vice.

“Hmph. Then maybe I should do the same. Part of me wants to  at least.”

Pure Vanila Cookie tilted his head playfully at the fumbling queen, “Oh? Do you question the passion in your heart my friend?”

Hollyberry cookie turned to Pure vanilla with slight confusion and maybe a bit of defensiveness, "What are you on about? Of course I am unwavering in my stance!"

He lets his hands rest on his lap with his staff nestled between his underarm, looking at Hollyberry with quiet understanding before motioning at the altar in the Odyssey Castle. Hollybery is familiar with it, the altar showcasing a mural of all the soul jams as well as pictures of her friends and herself. A small moment of nostaligia sunk in before Pure Vanilla broke the silence. 

“Truth allows us Cookies to exist. "

"Freedom gives our existence meaning. "

"Abundance fills our existence with prosperity"

"Resolution gives our existence direction."

"But your passion hollyberry-"

The kind hero takes Hollyberrys hand and places it towards her heart.

"Your Passion turns all of that into a life worth living."

Hollyberry stares at him full of wonder.

"Happiness can be hidden, even in the coldest of hearts. But that passion might just be the spark to bring it back one day."

A beat passes and then Hollyberry Cookie laughs loudly, despite the weight in her chest.

“Ugh, you and your pretty words!”

She reaches over and hits him heartily on the back. A bit too hard. He stumbles a bit forward with a surprised grunt.

“Merciful dough! You still hit like a candy ram!”

“Darn right I do! Now get up, you old doughball. If the other two are coming back, we better be ready.” 

The two ancients make their way back to the Odyssey Castle. Whatever may come in the future relating the beasts, they will be ready for it.