Cherish || A Chase x Sweetie Fanfiction ||

(S1-C11) • Wake-up •

"Sir Smith, have you lost your marbles? The Princess specifically stated to restrict her beloved pooch from leaving her fortress of solitude!" a knight on a horse scowled at the silent guard. "Having received the word, the Princess decided to take matters in her own hands. This is all on you," he continued, lashing the back side of his horse just to turn around, facing back to the direction of the castle, his final words acting as a warning, "You will be severely punished for your misdeeds."

The rainbow of flowers on the side of the pathway swayed upon the dash of the horse and the clopping of its hooves. However, the tulips stayed stationary and in meditation, tending to themselves. To have a peaceful mind, it was what Smith learned throughout his years, yet there was a tug from the back of his head that shouted for help. In a baritone, he ushered to himself with his shaking comrade, Antonio, beside him, "I need to tell her somehow..."

All he could do right now was stare out at the dark distance through the lowered bridge, slowly being pulled by knights to prevent entry and exit.

Large silhouettes of buildings in the city postponed the luminance, yet one such navy-hued ray, sparkling of faint, whitish moon particles struck through a window. Within the room, an evenly spread layer of cloth on the bed left a single body in its center, with a greenish, frog-faced toy cuddled by her forehead. Birds chirped their opera together, creating more lightness as the sun began its climb back up to the top, leaving the town dark until its well-expected arrival.

The body clock of the pup put on a heist to her slumber, eyes fluttering open to a daze of household figures. A soft huggable in particular seeped an impression of cheap tricks upon realization, the softness trapped in her embrace. It was a genius substitution of where a brown pup was supposed to be.

"Cuddles?" She stared into the bead-eyes of her secondary toy made of stuffings and purple fabrications. Just having her by her side, despite the short time together, it was like holding Busby. Dissimilarly, Busby would raise Sweetie's pride and toughness and propel her to do as she pleased, aiding her as much as he could just so she could remain happy and contented no matter the results, whereas Cuddles gave her a different experience. She posts vulnerability and allowance of personal feelings, an atmosphere telling the pup they're valid. After all, no one can keep smiling forever, and it was a reminder for the Terrier.

Both toys became remembrance of those who gave them to her—The Princess as Busby and her caretaker as Cuddles. Two sides, different purpose, both acting selfishly for the same reason, and it was for her sake alone. It was kind of sweet.

Grabbing Busby from above her, she sat down, twisting her head from left to right in a quest to find the watchpup. "Hello?" Sweetie called, ears awaiting sharply for any incoming sounds that may reply to her greetings.

She rolled to one end of the bed, her smallest toy within her teeth and Cuddles around an arm, dropping herself on the soft rug below, still alert. "Are you awake?" a faint voice came from outside the room.

Sweetie quickly followed the fleeting sound which led to the kitchen. Not even close to entering, an ominously light smell rooted Sweetie to the floor, and her nose crinkled. The fragrance was a unique explosiveness, having created a golden aroma that would drench one's mandible of their drool, and the pup could only question what kind of bewitching feed her caretaker was inventing.

She traipsed into the scullery, catching the brown pup in the act, who riveted a pair of bowls across each side of the table. Admiring the blooming sight, inside was a bundle of rice with yellowish cubes sitting on top of the steaming meal. "Oh sorry, sleeping beauty. Did my cooking break the curse?"

"Harhar, prince charming," she faked a laugh after placing both toys on a spare chair in the corner. "I only came to be fed by whatever eyesore you're creating."