Chapter 10 - Willow #2
I busied myself with putting a pot of water on the stove and dicing up the vegetables.
Little bits of skin still remained on all of them, like he’d never peeled vegetables before.
Not that he’d admit that, of course. It felt like everything was a new experience for him and I was determined to make them good ones.
Everyone deserved happy memories to drown out the inevitable bad ones. Even a Demon Lord.
If only I had some chicken stock or bouillon. Something to really make this soup pop, because right now, it tasted more like hot vegetable water.
I rummaged through the cabinets, searching for spices or salt or anything that could liven the dish up, but found nothing. Besides a few pots and utensils, the room was empty.
“What do you usually cook with?” I frowned at yet another empty cabinet. “There’s nothing here. How do you eat?”
“When I go into the library? It’s not really a big deal. I don’t need much.”
“Don’t need much?” I sighed. “You really don’t take care of yourself well, you know that? Honestly, what have you been doing this whole time?”
He turned his back, searching for something in the cabinets.
Since they were empty, it felt more like he was avoiding the question.
Maybe I shouldn’t have pried, but how did he think this was okay?
He slept on a stone slab and now he didn’t even seem to eat?
That wasn’t how anyone should be living, especially not somebody like him.
He might seem grumpy, but I could see the kindness in him too.
He’d asked me to be his writer because he believed in me.
He believed that I could write him a better ending than anyone else.
Maybe part of that was getting him to believe in himself too.
Believe that he deserved a good life. Why else was he doing all this?
He’d said something about wanting an ending worthy of a Demon Lord, but that couldn’t be the whole story, right?
He had to want more than an impressive ending; he probably wanted a good ending too. A happy one.
Or maybe that’s what I wanted for him...
I stirred the hot vegetable water. There had to be something I could do for him. Something like....
“Hey, Demon Lord?” I waited for him to turn towards me. “Is there something else I can call you? Demon Lord feels so official and I think we’ve gotten close enough to drop the formalities. I mean, we are about to eat dinner together and I did follow you into a book of all things.”
“Demon Lord is fine,” he said gruffly. “It’s the only name I’ve got.”
“That can’t be right.” I paused, thinking back on the previous books.
The Demon Lord really had only ever been called just that, like a dramatic name to frighten children.
“Huh, okay, so maybe we start there. Let’s give you a name!
” I glanced down at Cinder, getting an idea so silly I couldn’t help but grin. “What about Lord Shadowbuns?”
He rolled his eyes, sinking onto one of the stools by a small wooden table in the corner.
“Okay, so not that name,” I said, chuckling. “Maybe Sir Broodsalot then.”
As I bounced various names off him, each sillier than the last to lighten the mood, I poured two bowls of soup and took a carrot over to the table for Cinder too.
The demon bunny’s red eyes lit up as she took it in her furry little paws to nibble on.
The Demon Lord eyed the soup like he wasn’t sure if it would be edible, but dug in anyway, barely even giving it time to cool.
I picked up a spoon and blew on it, sipping on the kind of watery, but not half bad concoction.
The soup was warm, at least, and comforting. It reminded me of Gran. What would she do in this situation?
Pry into his personal life, probably, in a loving way of course.
“If you don’t use the kitchen much,” I said, swirling the soup in my bowl, “and you don’t care about a good night’s rest, what do you do for fun around here?”
He blinked. “For fun?”
“Yeah, you know, the thing that makes life worth living?” I frowned as he averted his eyes, suddenly very interested in Cinder, even going so far as to feed her a chunk of carrot from his soup. “You do have fun sometimes, don’t you? Like hang out with friends or read a good book?”
“Of course I do,” he snapped. “I’ve read almost every book in the library.”
I nodded, eating my soup slowly. I knew for a fact that the story spirits weren’t at the library all the time.
Each of them spent at least a portion of their day inside their books, to sleep and recover, but also to let the library rest and give others a chance to come out.
Plus, the villagers had been shocked to see him, which meant he probably didn’t go outside much. ..
So, what did he do all day?
He lifted his bowl of soup, drinking the last of the watery broth. If I didn’t ask him soon, this little cozy dinner of ours would be over and I might lose my nerve.
“Could we, maybe, visit the village tomorrow?”
He pinned me with a death stare.
I froze with my spoon halfway to my lips, my mouth suddenly so dry I had to get a glass of water. “I mean, the villagers seemed pretty excited to see you, and I could really use some supplies. Like paper and a pen. You know, to write your book?”
He didn’t answer, so I peeked over my shoulder at him. His eyebrows were pinched together as he studied his empty bowl, running his fingers along the edge in circles. He usually said whatever thought popped into his mind, so why was he so quiet now?
“What’s wrong?” I rejoined him at the table. “You don’t have to come, if you don’t want. I can explore on my own.”
“No, that’s not it. I just don’t really go outside.” His voice was soft as he sank lower in his chair, dissolving into his shadows. “Today was the first time.”
“Wait, what?” I almost dropped my glass in shock. “So you just stay inside this castle? All alone?”
Between the shadows swirling around him and the bad lighting, I could barely make him out anymore, but it seemed like he nodded.
Really? He had never stepped outside his castle?
That was basically the first thing I did once I realized the castle had nothing interesting in it.
It was cold, dark, and lonely. Not a place for anyone to hole up in for months or years.
“But why?” I felt myself reaching for his hand, hovering next to the shadows. “Weren’t you lonely?”
“Not really, and if I ever was, I’d just look out the windows at all the townsfolk. I’d make up stories about their lives and it was oddly comforting.”
His shadows flickered, betraying his light-hearted tone. There was no way watching everyone live their lives while he was locked up in here alone had been comforting. It had probably made him even lonelier. So why had he done it?
“I used to make up stories with my Grandpa all the time too.” A familiar twinge went through my chest, like an old ache that came and went with the rain, as I traced the rings in the wooden table.
“It hasn’t felt the same since he passed away.
Now it’s just me and my thoughts and it’s not nearly as much fun.
I’m guessing it’s the same for you.” My gaze darted up, like I was hoping to see some kind of connection in his eyes, but he was too lost in shadow for me to see.
“Why didn’t you ever talk to the townsfolk? ”
“I’m the villain of the story, Willow.” His shadows snapped around us both now, pulling me into the darkness with him.
His face was contorted with such pain that I did take his hand this time.
It was cold against mine. His eyes widened at the touch, but he still wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“I’m supposed to be terrifying and monstrous.
The only one strong enough to unite the demon generals and rule this land.
” His throat bobbed as his hand tightened around mine. “Do I seem terrifying to you?”
“No, of course not.” The instant the words left my lips, I knew they were wrong.
His face fell and he started tugging away from me, but I laced my fingers through his.
“I mean, you don’t seem terrifying because you’ve never tried to scare me.
You’ve been a good friend, actually, so if you want to be terrifying, I’ll help you.
I’m your writer, so I can make you whatever you want to be. ”
“That’s true, you’re the one in control here.
That’s why I wanted it to be you. You never make light of me, and you take your stories seriously.
Well, I seriously need to live up to what my author wanted me to be, but I just don’t feel it.
I’m always worried the fans will think I’m a joke when they meet me in person. Will you help me?”
His shadows drifted over my skin, velvety soft and more comforting than I’d expected. They curled around our interlaced fingers far too intimately for my taste. Warmth spread through my stomach, and I jerked my hand back with an awkward laugh.
“Of course I’ll help you, but is being terrifying really all there is to being a villain?” My skin was still tingling from his shadows as I clenched my hands in my lap. “Like, why are you the villain? What drives you?”
His mouth opened like he was going to answer, but he snapped it closed as a deep frown marred his forehead. “Honestly, I have no idea. The books never said. I really am useless.”
“No, you’re not.” I crossed my arms as another chill swept through the air.
“Let’s make finding out your villain origin story our mission tomorrow then.
While we’re out gathering supplies, we’ll gather information too.
I’m sure once you know why you’re the bad guy, you’ll feel connected to the role.
Based on what I saw, I’d guess it has something to do with the villagers.
They were all thanking you for protecting them and stuff. ”