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“What do you think of this new plan, Prince?” An advisor spoke confidently, handing Dark Choco a paper with a bow. “I have made your requested amendments, shall we continue with the legislation process?”
Dark Choco took the document with two hands, reading over the front of the paper briefly. “I shall discuss this with my father, Sir, thank you.”
“And what of the creation of this law?”
“I do not sign laws, my father does.”
The advisor furrowed his eyebrows. “This law is for the greater good, Sir. We must get it enacted soon, or—”
“I will take this to my father,” Dark Choco dryly interrupted. “This regulation is not currently necessary. While I agree to what you propose, that does not mean it must be enacted now. My father has much more important things to dwell on.”
The advisor bit his tongue. “But, Sir—”
“What was not clear about my statement?”
“You do not understand—”
“I understand that you are trying to rush the creation of this law.” Dark Choco narrowed his one good eye to the advisor. He noted the man’s agitated gestures.
The advisor gawked. “How dare you assume such a thing!”
Workers and soldiers surrounding began to stare at the rising tension.
Dark Choco pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you I would take it to my father. If you think this is so important that you must harass me about it, why don't you take it to him yourself?”
“This is not harassment. This is me putting forth my effort to pass a law that will help all the citizens of this kingdom. Do you not see that, Sir?”
“I never once said I didn’t—”
“Then why are you dismissing it? Selfish, Sir?” The advisor slyly retorted, his ego swelling.
Dark Choco’s cold eye stared down at the advisor. The room shifted uncomfortably at the newfound tension. He felt anger bubbling in his blood, but he felt all eyes on him. The eyes were teasing him, mocking him, daring him to lash out.
Returning home, the prince slowly returned to his royal responsibilities. He was a weapon of intelligence for the Allies; the information he gained from his time with the Darkness was vital to their fight. The Dark Cacao Kingdom was slowly preparing for whatever war was to come.
Everyone knew it was coming.
Dealing with the reassimilation of his homeland had been harder than Dark Choco anticipated. Sure, most people rushed back to accept their prince. But, the ones who didn’t—they made sure to give Dark Choco a very hard time. Being the prince, he needed to keep his image as clean as possible. The citizens admired his father—everyone did—he wanted to be an admirable figure too.
That was extremely hard with his not unknown and particularly violent track record.
Because of this, Dark Choco worked extra hard to rectify his past. He assisted his father, and his people regularly, he kept quiet, and refused to speak about his past unless strictly necessary. Dark Choco did everything that was possible to repaint himself in the same image as the portraits of his younger self that were displayed proudly along the walls of the Citadel.
And it was hard.
Trying to become the man he was years ago was impossible. Dark Choco’s trauma allowed him minimal moments of peace; dealing with anxiousness and overcoming mental battles took a toll on his patience and health.
This conversation was not helping.
Knowing of his past violent tendencies, many of the people who loathed the prince’s return used it against him. They spoke in manners to sabotage Dark Choco—they even used it to fulfill their own agendas.
Dark Choco sighed. The advisor came to him for the creation of this law, therefore—per his past experiences—there must be something within the law that benefits the aristocrats.
Which was not for the “greater good” of all citizens.
Dark Choco spoke quietly, trying not to crack under the pressure of saying the wrong thing. “What I said before stands.”
The advisor huffed a sigh. “Fine. But when this reaches His Majesty’s hands, he will see how important it is.”
“Whatever you say, Sir…” Disinterest laced Dark Choco’s voice.
The advisor strided away as accomplishment left a smirk on his face; bystanders watched him disappear into the corridors. Once the man was out of sight, eyes moved back to Dark Choco. His stomach churned. He replayed the conversation over in his head, making sure he did not misstep or make any mistakes.
Relief washed over Dark Choco as the watching citizens went back to their duties unbotheredly. The unnecessary interaction came with unnecessary stress and frustration, giving Dark Choco a headache. Taking a deep breath, the prince walked out of the corridor towards his father’s study.
Dark Cacao sat cross-legged at his soban with his head in his hands. Documents and papers were stacked high on his table, awaiting their inspection. The warmth of the heated floor eased no tension from his aching bones; Dark Cacao was tired, and his stress was only rising.
Dealing with his kingdom’s and Allies’s affairs were no small matters.
The paperwork was never ending.
Questions from advisors in the form of lengthy documents consumed most of the King’s time—not that he ever had the time for anything leisurely before. His mind was too tired to focus, but the amount of work he had to finish warranted no time to rest. He rubbed his face and dropped his hands on the wooden soban. Picking up his pen, he scanned the horrendously long document before him. Finally finding the page to sign, he scribbled his signature.
Thanks to the advisors, he wouldn’t have to read the whole document. His tired eyes scanned it briefly, making sure nothing particularly sneaky was added.
Moving that page to the side, he grabbed the next paper, and repeated the process.
A knock interrupted him.
A groan escaped from his mouth. Another advisor?
“Come in…” He grumbled.
Dark Choco slid open the sliding door, stepping inside the study, he closed it behind him. Dark Cacao looked up, mildly annoyed, but then saw Dark Choco. He relaxed slightly.
“Son...” Dark Cacao spoke louder, filling the quietness of his study.
“Father.” Dark Choco leaned on the door, sighing. He was finally able to escape all the eyes from outside. The fireplace gave the room a comforting burning smell, mixed with a bitter, chocolate aroma.
Oddly, the room was filled with tension.
Dark Cacao looked back down at his paperwork, returning to work. “What have you busied yourself with today?”
Dark Choco stayed silent. Looking at a small, wall clock, he read it. It was noon.
“Dark Choco?” He glanced up to see Dark Choco standing still. He looked dissociated.
“Son?”
Dark Choco blinked. “Yes?”
“What have you done today?” Dark Cacao spoke while reading.
Dark Choco shrugged.
Not getting an answer, Dark Cacao shook his head with annoyance after signing a paper. He moved it to the side. “Where is your voice, Dark Choco?”
“...”
Dark Choco was too tired to talk. He wished his father wasn’t in a talking mood either. “Here.”
“Then why must I pry you for an answer?”
He shrugged again.
The grip on his pen tightened. Dark Cacao didn’t have time for Dark Choco’s silent game. He was busy.
He needed his answers verbally.
“Dark Choco, use your voice.” His voice was tight with annoyance.
You are the one that wishes to talk. “I’ve done nothing today…”
“Then say that.” Dark Cacao spoke with tired frustration. “You are no mutt, I should not have to beg you to speak.”
Dark Choco huffed and rolled his eyes. He tossed down the paper the sabotaging advisor gave him.
“Don’t you huff and roll your eyes at me.” Dark Caco hadn’t looked up from his paper until he heard something being tossed down. “What is this?”
“Some stupid law an advisor wants to enact.”
Dark Cacao busied himself again. Dark Choco watched him, had he been in here all morning? “Did you read it?”
“Not exactly.”
“So read it.”
“I know ‘tis not of importance...”
“You could do me the favor and read it, can’t you, son?”
Dark Choco grumbled. “I do not want to read it.”
“You believe I want to be reading documents all day?” Dark Cacao’s voice was stern, his frustration making him put pressure on the pen. It made a blotch of ink on a paper that neither of them noticed.
“I never said that.”
“So read the damn paper.”
Dark Choco scoffed. “No need to be hostile…”
“Where is this bout of attitude coming from?” Dark Cacao watched Dark Choco pick up the tossed document, flipping through it mindlessly.
“I’ve no attitude, Father.” He looked down at Dark Cacao, and his paper. He snickered.
“You should pay better attention to your penmanship…”
“What—?” He looked down at his paper. Ink pooled in a gigantically small puddle on the document, as the pent-up frustration pooled out of Dark Cacao.
“‘Tisn’t funny, Dark Choco.” His voice was full of fuming anger that caught Dark Choco off guard. He felt his own annoyance heightened.
“Do not say that like ‘tis my fault you’ve left pressure on the pen, on the paper.”
“Your petty silence and attitude distracted me. I’ve all this work to get done, I do not have the time—nor energy—to put up with your ragfully baiting bouts.” Dark Cacao sneered.
“I didn’t come here to talk? You started talking to me.”
“‘Tis common courtesy to speak to a person when they enter the room. You would know that if you had the manners to speak.”
Dark Choco stiffly laughed. “Oh, good Heavens! I no longer have manners because I simply don’t wish to endure a dry conversation! The fucking tragedy!”
“Watch your language to me, boy.” He stood from the soban. The odd tension from before heighted like wind to a flame.
“I am not a boy.”
“You are acting like one.”
“You started this.” He spat.
“And you wish to speak to me like I am beneath you. I am your Father. You do not speak to me with that tone.” He walked closer to Dark Choco, his fists clenched at his sides.
Dark Choco sarcastically sneered, putting his hands up. “You wanted to talk. We’re talking.”
“Drop that attitude, now.”
Dark Cacao tried to get a hold of his anger.
“Or what? What will you do?”
Dark Choco tried to get a hold of his anger.
“Nothing that you will be happy with.”
“What? What will you do?” He walked closer to Dark Cacao. “I am not afraid of you.”
Dark Cacao gritted his teeth. “I am not telling you to be.”
Neither of them could get a hold of their anger.
“So? What will you do? You cannot scare me into obeying—”
Dark Cacao was blinded by his stress and anger. He let it override his mind as he lifted his large hand and slapped Dark Choco in the face. The slap made Dark Choco stumble backwards, holding his face in shock.
The room fell dead silent.
Dark Choco forcefully blinked back the tears in his eyes. His face stung where Dark Cacao—his father—landed the slap. His breathing was quick and harsh. Dark Choco went from angry, to shocked, to livid. His stomach dropped as a million emotions spiraled in him at once.
Father hit me?
Dark Cacao’s eye twitched. That brat kept talking, he thought it was all empty threats. His heart dropped, his anger kept his face stern, but on the inside, he was instantly consumed by guilt.
Dark Cacao swallowed hard. “Do you see what happens when you enjoy running your mouth?”
“...”
“You slapped me?” Dark Choco muttered.
“I did.” His voice was sternly unwavering.
“You…you slapped me.”
“What is there not to understand?” Dark Cacao spoke mockingly.
I know I slapped you, I’m sorry.
Dark Choco furrowed his eyebrows. He marched towards his father, his aggression evident. In a wild fury, he pushed Dark Cacao.
“You slapped me!” He shouted, his voice quivered ever-so-slightly.
I didn’t want to push you, I’m angry.
“Don’t you push me, boy!”
“You. Slapped. Me!”
Dark Cacao grabbed the neckline of Dark Choco’s shirt, pulling him harshly towards him. A gasp left Dark Choco. “I did. And so what? I am your father. You choose not to listen to me, there are consequences, no matter how old you are!”
“You think that makes you great, huh?” He growled, putting his hands on top of Dark Cacao’s.
I don’t want to fight. Please stop.
Hearing the arguing, guards rushed into the room. They broke apart the father and son as they both continued to shout aggressively, hurling insults.
Neither of them wanted to fight, so why were they fighting?
“This is why I left!” Dark Choco shouted over the chaos, it was raw.
Why did I say that?
Dark Cacao felt his heart tear apart. “Then leave again! It would not matter to me!”
That isn’t true.
“Fucking good!” Dark Choco pushed away the guards that were holding him back. He ran out of the room, slamming the sliding door behind him. He did not look back.
“Your Majesty—”
“Get the hell out of my study.” Dark Cacao’s voice was dangerous, it bellowed in the small room they were in.
“Lord—”
“Get out .”
The soldiers left the study, and Dark Cacao was left alone.
His chest rose and fell sporadically, and his heart beat fast. The situation replayed painfully in his mind as he sat down, defeatedly, to work again. The puddle of ink was a dried-up smear on the paper; a burning tear rewetted it. Dark Cacao sat numbly, his mind and body shut down from the awful argument.
Picking up his pen, Dark Cacao continued to scan and sign documents like a broken record.
He had work to finish.
Dark Choco ran towards his quarters. Getting inside, he realized that what he called “his” quarters, was simply his father’s quarters. He stood inside his father’s room, the coldness slapped him, soothing the stinging from his face. Dark Choco swallowed hard, barely able to catch his breath. He heaved from running, and the adrielen wearing off let him see the full situation clearly.
His father slapped him.
The last time they had fought was when he left that cursed sword.
The time where he vowed to be better. Where they both vowed to be better.
Dark Choco lifted a trembling hand to his face, cupping the injured cheek. He pressed his fingers gently into his skin; it hurt. Dark Choco didn’t bother to hold back his tears, as he sobbed in front of the sliding door.
The late evening brought a beautiful sunset of colors. Dark Choco sat on the balcony floor of Dark Cacao’s bedroom, watching. He had not left the room since noon, nor had he seen his father since noon. His face was puffy and his eyes were red—a mere thought of the incident earlier brought tears to his tired eyes.
He wanted his father.
Dark Choco ate the food that was brought to him by the guards, only doing so because he knew Dark Cacao would be upset if he didn’t. His heart sank. He had finally started to make good impressions on those who doubted him. The whole Citadel likely knows of the argument; news flies fast. He anxiously waited for Dark Cacao to come to his quarters.
Will he kick him out?
Will they fight again?
The moment felt like impending doom.
Standing from the floor, Dark Choco went inside. He quietly walked towards the bathroom. Turning on a light, he studied himself in the mirror.
Exhaustion haunted his face. Turning to the side, the slap left a reddish-purple bruise on his cheek bone. Dark Choco saw his lips tremble in the mirror. Tears welled in his eyes, but quickly dried—he had lost energy to cry any longer.
Dark Cacao walked silently in the halls; not a soul bothered him since noon. In one sense, he was thankful, he had been able to make it through the whole pile of documents.
He hoped the tear stains would dry before they were handed back out.
During the day, Dark Cacao had stopped his work frequently. Whether he was holding back tears or dissociating was unknown to him. The guilt drowned his appetite, but, with Dark Choco in mind, he ate a few bits of dinner.
He lifted his hands in front of him as he walked. His weary eyes let his imagination replay the moment—the moment he used his full strength against his son. Dark Cacao cursed himself under his breath.
Arriving at his quarters, he prayed Dark Choco was and wasn’t inside. He wanted to see him and make everything right—how was he to apologize?
I hit you, I’m sorry?
That does not take away the pain.
The guards present opened the sliding door, bowing to their King as he entered.
Bracing himself, Dark Cacao saw a light coming from the bathroom. He exhaled realizing he still had a few moments before facing Dark Choco. Night crept into the sky as the sunset's colors began to fade.
Dark Choco listened to his father move around in the main bedroom; he wasn’t ready to confront him yet. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready.
Dark Cacao paced anxiously within the bedroom. He took note of everything. Dark Choco’s clothes were on the floor; he must be in pajamas. The soban had a small amount of food left on it; good, he ate. Their weapons stood next to each other near the bedside; he wasn’t hurting himself. Dark Cacao’s own clothing was making him sweat; he was in pajamas.
Or was it just his anxiety? His hypervigilance?
A creek made Dark Cacao turn hastily.
Dark Choco stood outside of the bathroom, his arms folded in front of him. He looked down and away from Dark Cacao, the nerves made Dark Cacao avert his own gaze. A blanket of uncomfortable silence filled the room. Without making eye contact, Dark Choco shuffled to the bed. Sitting down on the comforter, wrapped his arms around his body.
Dark Cacao cleared his throat, he hadn’t spoken since noon. “Dark Choco…”
Dark Choco felt his stomach drop. He didn’t want to address it.
“...Let me see, Dark Choco…” His voice was strained and quiet.
Dark Choco looked away, tears welled in his eyes. He wouldn’t show him the swelling bruise on his face.
“Show me, Dark Choco…” He felt his frustration rising—frustration with himself.
“...”
“...No…” He was barely audible. The tone of Dark Cacao’s voice made him tremble.
Dark Cacao walked over. “Please, show me.”
“...No.”
“Show me, damnit!” Dark Cacao raised his voice, grabbing Dark Choco’s face.
Startled, Dark Choco gasped and struggled away, the grip making his face hurt. Using his arms, he tried to push Dark Cacao’s arm away. He noticed the tears in his father’s eyes.
He looked afraid.
“Let—Let go, Father!”
“Show me!”
“Father, stop!”
Dark Choco finally pushed the teary-eyed Dark Cacao off of him. He sat defeated on the bed as Dark Choco scooted away from him. He held his face as his eyes darted around his father.
What was he thinking?
Dark Cacao’s voice quivered. “Show me what I’ve done to you…”
“...”
“You will not be comforted…”
“I do not wish for it to bring me comfort .” His voice was sharp. Watching Dark Choco flinch, his tone faltered. “...I am aware of my strength…Let me see what I’ve done to you.”
Dark Choco felt his breath hitch. He lifted his hand to the bruised cheek, covering it.
“No.”
“Dark Choco, please.”
“I—I… can't. You’ll be cross—”
“I haven't been cross with you since I hit you.” His voice broke, his lip trembling. “The only person I have been cross with is myself, Dark Choco.”
“...”
“I hurt you.”
“...”
“Something I vowed to never do again...”
“...”
“I did not think—I just—I reacted without thought...” Dark Cacao's voice trailed off.
The small space between them on the bed was suffocating. The bedroom's silence was filled with shaky breathing and wide, glossy eyes.
Dark Choco wiped his eyes, tears streaming down his face. “Father…”
“Let me see.”
Slowly, Dark Choco crawled closer to Dark Cacao. Sitting only inches apart, he still covered the bruised cheek. Dark Cacao braced himself; if he is covering it, then it is bad.
Cautiously, Dark Cacao let his hand meet the hand on his son’s face. He nodded, as if to signal he was ready.
Would he ever be ready?
Dark Choco exhaled deeply. The tears dried from his eyes. “Are you sure…?”
“Do we have a choice?” His voice was barely audible.
“...”
“If I do not see it now, I will end up seeing it later…”
“...”
“I can’t.”
Dark Cacao released the breath he was holding. The tension was unbearable.
“I don’t want you to see it.”
“That tells me—”
“It looks awful.” Dark Choco whispered, his voice cracking.
Dark Cacao looked away. “I…I am sorry.”
“...”
“I know…”
“There was no reason for me to act out.” Exhaustion made his voice flat. “It was immature.”
“I acted immature. I acted like a fool.” Dark Choco’s tired tone matched his father’s. His head pounded.
“That does not—”
“I should not have spoken to you in that manner...”
Dark Cacao took both of Dark Choco’s hands. He pulled them out in front of him. Dark Choco panicked when his hand was lifted off his face, but Dark Cacao wasn’t looking at his cheek.
He was looking in his eyes. All he could see was his little boy, and the memories of a young Dark Choco brought tears to his own eyes. For the hundredth time, he blinked them away.
“It does not matter how you spoke to me. Nothing that you will say can shift the blame onto yourself; it was my fault.”
Dark Choco felt his heart beat faster. “But—”
“Whatever you say will not change the interaction. I must take accountability.” He caressed Dark Choco’s cheek, the one with the bruise.
Dark Choco watched his father’s lips thin. “But I pushed you—”
“That was after I hit you.”
“But—” Dark Choco desperately tried to find somewhere within the argument where he himself could be blamed.
He failed to find an answer.
“No, no—”
Dark Cacao let his thumb rub up and down the bruised cheek gently. “You should not feel guilty for something I did…”
“I know.”
“It will be okay.”
Dark Choco swallowed “...Do you truly think that?”
“...”
“...Yes,” He hesitated, “yes, it will be…”
After what felt like a century, Dark Choco crawled into Dark Cacao’s arms. The embrace was tight, like they haven’t hugged in forever. They both fell quiet. The silence let their minds rest.
“...I am sorry for being rude.” Dark Choco muttered. His eyes were closed as he leaned into Dark Cacao. “The advisors were …testing my patience…”
“...They…they do that often…”
Dark Cacao ran his fingers through his son’s short hair. The day weighed heavy on him; his exhaustion was enough to put him to sleep sitting up.
“Have you iced this bruise?”
“...”
“No.”
“You should.”
“I know…” He absently rubbed the bruise, pressing down to feel its soreness. He winced. “I have a headache…”
Dark Cacao hummed in agreement. “Come, lay down.”
Dark Choco did not object as he followed his father, who settled himself on the bed. He listened to Dark Cacao’s heartbeat as they lay side-by-side. His chest rose and fell, easing the tension in Dark Choco’s bones.
Dark Cacao rubbed his son’s face. “I will not forgive myself for this…”
“I forgive you…”
“Don’t.”
“I know it was wrong.” Dark Choco let his arms snake around Dark Cacao. “It was a mistake…”
“I hit you, Dark Choco.”
“I know.” He firmly repeated.
Dark Cacao bit his tongue, feeling the salty taste. “Then why would you forgive me?”
“I don’t wish to hold anymore grudges with you, Father.”
“Dark Choco—”
Dark Choco sat up. “We both acknowledge that it happened, and we both admit to the foolishness from both parties, do we not?”
“Suppose so…” He let Dark Choco take his hand.
“So now we let it rest.”
“...”
Dark Cacao thought about it, staring into his son’s eyes. He pulled Dark Choco close to him.
“You belittle yourself over everything, Father.” Dark Choco’s tired voice was sympathetic.
Dark Cacao shook his head. “How can I forget this if there’s been one too many times where I have failed you, Dark Choco?”
“...I’m not saying to forget it.” He cuddled close. “I will not forget it either. I just—just don’t want it to haunt you…”
Dark Cacao chuckled. “Everything I’ve done wrong haunts me, son.”
Dark Choco looked away.
“I look at your grown face and I see that it was an outsider that watched you grow up, not I.” He titled Dark Choco’s chin up, forcing his voice not to break. “And that kills me. We made amends, but it will forever haunt me…”
Dark Choco listened quietly, letting a few tears fall onto his father’s shirt. His voice cracked.
“I’m sorry, Father…”
“Don’t cry.” He shushed him gently, swallowing hard. “It was never your fault. ‘Tis just guilt that I must carry…”
Dark Choco gathered himself, sniffling. He looked up at Dark Cacao, and wiped his father’s teary eyes the same way he wiped his.
Dark Cacao put a hand on his face, admiring his grown son. “ I am sorry…I will always forgive you.”
Tears streamed down their faces once more.
This time, they held each other close in the comfort of their arms. It was warm and comforting, with a smell of burning wood and bitter chocolate.
“I love you, Father…”
Dark Cacao mustered a small smile through his tears, watching Dark Choco hold him close. He felt one of the many small weights lift off his shoulder.
“I love you too, my son…”