Fairytale/Fantasy Kingdom AU. GerIta. Fluff?
Ludwig is a pastry chef, Feliciano is the Crown Prince. All Ludwig wants is the chance to prove his love.
A/N: It felt weird writing this because there was no crying, no unnecessary drama, and no death. ^^ /is an angst writer at heart
This was written sort of as a joke because of my beloved America RPer making a comment on my being able to draw inspiration from anything and probably being able to look at a piece of cake and write about that... so I did.
He knew that their relationship was both unlikely and unsavory: not only did they come from very different social standings, but they were of the same sex as well. However, Ludwig couldn't deny that he had fallen for the young prince the moment he had entered his humble bakery in the center of town.
Ludwig was a baker of great skill whose confections were the stuff of legends in the culinary circles. He could create cakes, pies, tarts, and buns of such extraordinary flavor that he had come to be known as a genius in his own right. The women of the kingdom all flocked to sample his goods and tempt fate, hoping to catch the eye of the handsome young man with such a promising future. Unfortunately, Ludwig remained entirely focused on his work, never sparing any customer so much as a business-like glance as he handed over whatever it was they desired to eat. Alas, not even the most attractive genius baker in the world could stand to capture the heart of the royal heir.
The two had met by chance when, having heard of the baker's incredible talent, Prince Feliciano had ventured out of the palace to meet the other man in person. It had taken him by surprise when Ludwig addressed him curtly and earnestly, failing to put on the airs to which he'd become accustom. In that bakery, the nobleman was not doted upon nor was he babied, instead the stern-faced blond had simply asked him what it was that he wanted, and why he had not written it down beforehand so as not to hold up his business.
Blinking, Prince Feliciano had managed to stutter out that his servants had indeed given him a list, but he couldn't seem to find it anywhere at the moment. On the verge of tears, he had met the young man's eyes for the first time, seeing in them shock and a strange sort of intensity.
Ludwig had taken one step forward to comfort the crying prince only for the brunet to turn on heel and flee, leaving him confused. It wasn't until later that he realized that the man he had scolded was none other than Crown Prince Feliciano, heir to the throne. To Ludwig's amazement, an royal guard was never sent to his bakery to have him beheaded.
From that day forward, the culinary genius found himself distracted, always thinking of that auburn-locked boy who had looked so wonderfully gentle and had cried as easily as a woman. He kept telling himself that he was just embarrassed to have spoken so sharply to the future ruler, that he was just fascinated with the individual because of his position of power. Before long, he was unable to deny the obvious: he had fallen in love with Prince Feliciano. It was ridiculous, he found himself thinking, this falling in love at first sight. That sort of thing was better suited for fairytales with a handsome prince and a beautiful princess rather than for an overly emotional soon-to-be king and a workaholic pastry chef with no hopes of ever seeing a happy ending.
Weeks had passed, doing nothing to lessen the passion that had been sparked in the baker's chest, and Ludwig was just about to give up when he began to notice the brightly colored banners that had found themselves posted all across the kingdom. Prince Feliciano's birthday was to be celebrated in less than month, and a grand celebration was to be held in the square just outside of his bakery. It was then that a plan was born.
Baking had always come easily to him. Additions of new, unorthodox ingredients or curious attempts at original techniques were guided by a natural instinct so well developed that he barely thought anything of it. Now, however, he had stumbled across a challenge so great that he found himself grasping desperately for inspiration. For Prince 's birthday celebration, he sought to make a cake delicious enough to make the beautiful young man understand the depths of his love for him, but he would have to compete with the well stocked kitchens of the palace with their expensive ingredients and well-learnt cooks.
Every day, along with the other usual pastries, he would bake a different kind of cake. Some were sweet, some were rich, some were moist, some were delicate, all were delicious, but still he found himself unsatisfied. Nothing in the sugary glaze of one cake translated his dedication. Similarly, affection could not be found in the delectably chocolate-filled batter of another. As time went on, he became obsessed. The young man would refuse to sleep for nights on end in favor of creating yet another masterpiece that he would inevitably reject as "not good enough". The street was constantly graced with the mouthwatering aroma of baking, drawing more customers than ever before. One by one, Ludwig sold each of his magnificent cakes until he was once more left with only an empty (albeit dirty) kitchen.
With one day remaining before the big celebration, the exhausted pastry chef made his way to the marketplace in search of ingredients. As he browsed the stalls, searching for the best deals on eggs, flour, and cream, a bellow of rage seized his attention.
"Fucking brats! Get back here!"
Glancing up, the young man spotted two blond boys charging down the street away from a furious-looking individual with unnaturally pale skin and flashing, scarlet eyes.
"Alfred, I don't think this is a really good idea!" The milder of the children was crying, sneaking terrified glances over his shoulder. The other, possibly his twin, only laughed.
"That's 'cuz you're not running fast enough, Mattie!"
Ludwig stood in the middle of the narrow road, arms outstretched to intercept the two of them as they approached. Lifting both clear off the ground, he addressed them sternly.
"What are you boys doing?"
"None of your business, mister." The bolder announced, legs kicking in an attempt to find the ground. "That old man had something cool, so we wanted to see it!"
Unimpressed, Ludwig asked, "Do you still have it with you?"
In his right arm, the child piped up. "J-just give it to him, Alfred… I don't wanna get in trouble…"
"Aw, c'mon Matt! You're so stupid!"
By this time, the pursuer had caught up, leaning heavily on a crutch as he gasped for air. "You… little shits… gonna gut you…"
The boy called Alfred began to struggle fiercely in an attempt to get away, but the baker's thick arm only tightened around his midsection.
"Did these boys take something from you, sir?"
The man in question was wearing a faded military tunic, fraying at the edges where it had been worn with constant use. On one foot he wore a scuffed riding boot, and on the other, nothing. Of course, this was due to the fact that his left leg was missing from the knee down. Scowling at the children, the ex-soldier extended a calloused hand.
"Hand it over, squirt."
"I haven't got it!"
"Bullshit you haven't, give it to me!"
With a dramatic air of resignation, the blond boy plunged his hand into his trouser pocket and withdrew a dull, iron war medal that was snatched away from him the moment it was visible. While the baker was distracted, Alfred and his brother squirmed free of his grasp and galloped off, possibly to spark some new calamity. Ludwig swore.
"Did they take anything else from you?"
Glancing up from the medal, the other man observed his younger counterpart with half-peaked interest. "Nah, it was just this. Thanks, kid."
"It was nothing." Just as he turned to leave, the ex-soldier seized his arm with a surprisingly powerful grip. "E-excuse me."
"Are you looking for something?" he asked, scarlet eyes teasing him openly. "You look like you're looking for something, am I right?"
"Just ingredients for my shop…"
"I'm feeling like there's something else, too… You got a lover, kid?"
Forcing back the color that had blossomed at the tips of his ears, Ludwig shook his head. "No, not exactly. Besides, that's none of your busin-"
"Bet you're trying to make something really special for 'em, huh? And, lemme guess, their birthday's coming up right around the corner?"
"How-?"
"Take this." Reaching into a button-less pocket on his chest, the stranger withdrew a small, crimson pouch. "I think this might just be the ingredient you were looking for."
The baker accepted the small bag, closing his thick fingers over it in a strangely defensive action. "Thank you."
"Good luck, kid."
"But who are you?" When he lifted his head to ask for the man's name, Ludwig discovered that he was standing alone, the surrounding townspeople busily chattering and bartering but none seeming to have noticed the mysterious exchange between the two men. A shiver ran down his spine.
That night, Ludwig returned home with renewed hope. Mixing the basic ingredients together, he created a smooth batter that seemed as promising as any other before. Then, after a long moment of consideration, he added the contents of the little, red pouch. Immediately, an alluring scent rose into the air, making the baker almost woozy with excitement. Perhaps this was what he had been looking for all along.
The cake was baked and frosted by dawn, the first rays of sunlight spilling through the kitchen window to accent the fluffy, white pastry. With a contented smile, Ludwig tucked it into the pantry and retreated to his bedroom where he donned his cleanest, best clothes for the big day.
Music and laughter could be heard all around town, and the streets were filled with dancing subjects. Rumor had it that even the prince was present, celebrating joyfully amongst his people. Ludwig licked his lips nervously, standing guard at the front of this bakery where a vast number of sweets had been assembled. For the past day and a half he had toiled to create every last delicacy he could imagine, every dessert known to the western world. Now his work was enjoyed by passing revelers who found themselves with delighted smiles plastered across their faces the moment the pastries touched their lips. However, they were of no importance to Ludwig – he sought the recognition of one person only, but that person had not yet appeared.
He wondered why the prince would even bother to return to his bakery, seeing as he had been nothing but rude to him the first time they'd met. With a sigh, Ludwig noticed another customer lingering just beyond his field of vision.
"Can I help you?"
"Um… Th-that would be really nice. I brought a list this time!"
As he turned to face the other person, the baker froze in place. Standing before him – and looking resplendent in his green, red, and white robes – the prince fidgeted with a scrap of parchment.
"Happy birthday, your highness." Ludwig bowed low, partially out of respect and partially out of the sudden need to hide his burning cheeks. "I apologize for my poor manners last time, I didn't realize-"
"It was fine!" Prince Feliciano smiled warmly, regarding the baker with eyes reminding him of toffee or caramel. "I've never had people speaking so strongly towards me, and I guess it confused me a little, but it really wasn't so scary after I thought about it for a little while. Besides, I think that you're a good person, aren't you?"
"I…" Swallowing back his nerves, he stuttered out, "I have a cake for you, your highness."
"Really?" The joy and wonder on his face was like that of a child. A happy shiver traveled from the top of Ludwig's head to the tips of his toes.
"Ah, yes. If your highness could wait for just a moment, I could fetch it for you."
Beaming, the nobleman nodded. "Okay, I'll wait."
Hands slick with sweat, Ludwig carried the flawless white cake out into the street, focused entirely on putting one foot before the other. When he had sampled the confection earlier that morning, he had been overcome with a feeling of warmth as the sweet flavor had danced across his tongue. Finally, his emotions had been properly transferred into this glorious cake which had been crafted for the prince alone.
Though he must have seen many more impressive desserts in his life, Prince Feliciano practically danced with excitement when he laid eyes on the little cake.
"Oh, it's so pretty! This looks wonderful!"
Setting it onto the table, the blond drew out a knife and sliced deftly into the cake to reveal a rosy pink interior. The nobleman clapped with delight.
"Such a beautiful color!"
"Thank you, your highness."
Lifting the tempting morsel to his lips, the royal slowly bit into it. He chewed carefully, then swallowed, a strange expression rearranging his features.
"What is this?" Prince Feliciano asked gently, tilting his head to gaze up at the baker from behind his auburn locks. "This tastes so…"
"I…" Ludwig steeled himself. "If I might be so bold, I… I baked this cake as a symbol of the feelings I have for your highness."
Surprise flickered in the delicious depths of the other man's eyes, then frosting-spotted lips parted.
"What's your name?"
"My name, your highness?"
"Yup, what's your name?"
Fearing that he was providing the information for his own death warrant, the commoner forced the two syllables from his leaden tongue. "Ludwig."
"Ludwig." the prince repeated, as though sampling a foreign delicacy. He smiled his brilliant, charming smile. "If Ludwig's love is as pure as his cake says it is, I can't help but think that I could love Ludwig back."
Leaning forward on tiptoes, Prince Feliciano planted a sugary kiss on the baker's lips, prompting Ludwig's rather pale face to take on a rich, brick red hue. Confused, the pastry chef resisted momentarily before giving in to the gentle contact of lips on lips.
"Your highness!" A haughty-looking man observed the couple with disapproving eyes tucked behind a pair of rectangular spectacles. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Ah, the advisor…" The baker heard the future king sigh before drawing away. Slapping a grin across his face, Prince Feliciano addressed him, "Our subjects were throwing a party for me, Roderich, and I thought it would be lots of fun to come and celebrate my birthday with them!"
"Who are you?" Roderich ignored the younger nobleman's explanation in favor of fixing the blond with a nasty glare.
Returning the distasteful look, he retorted, "My name is Ludwig, sir."
"And what business do you have with Crown Prince Feliciano?"
"None but to congratulate him on his birthday."
"Good." With that, the advisor gripped the prince's arm and turned sharply away from the humble baker. "Away with you, commoner. May you never again be caught so indecently 'congratulating' the Crown Prince."
Even as he was led away in a manner that so nearly broke the Ludwig's heart, Prince Feliciano leaned back quickly and winked. With just that brief flicker of movement, he promised that this wouldn't be their last meeting, and that he was hungry for more of the baker's love.