Legends -- Diarmuid's Past | A fate/zero Diarmuid x Reader fanfiction

IV. Chocolate Spiral Buns

"I've decided," Sam announced cheerily. "to accept!"

Sam had just stepped in the shop shortly after the parade ended - rather shortly after you yourself had returned to the bakery.

"Accept what, dear?" Bessie asked calmly, rolling some dough. "How was the parade, by the way?" she added.

"Pretty good," you chirped in reply to Bessie's question, obviously in a good mood. Sam seemed to be in pretty good spirits himself, surprisingly.

"And I myself have gotten wonderful news. Bessie, if you don't mind, please prepare a pot of tea, jasmine tea. Thank you. Now here's my story. I was walking around handing samples and flyers to people of the street, and just so it happened that the float which the King, his Royal Highness himself was standing on happened to pass by. His float was the last in the parade, and he announced to the crowd that in celebration of our latest victory, we're going to have a ball. He'll need preparations and the sort, of course, and he'll re-announce it to those who didn't hear. Everyone, I mean, every single one in our kingdom has been invited to join. And guess what His Royal Highness said? I was there, providing the crowd our chocolate spiral bun samples, and the King Himself got off his float to try. And he made an offer: to provide the pastries for the ball. This will be horribly stressful and all, but it can increase our popularity, and the sum He'll be paying us is fairly large too. It's really a huge honour. So I'm hoping that both of you won't mind if I accept?"

"That's a lot of news to digest," quipped Bessie. "But I know for sure that I'm supporting you all the way." Bessie flashed a smile and a quick thumbs-up.

"Well, I don't see why I shouldn't accept," you replied cautiously. "I don't mind helping you two with the shop in the least."

"Great! I'll accept right now and we'll start working on them right this instant!"

Sam rushed off to write some letter, and almost instantly after that was baking-wonderland. You spent a full six hours in the kitchen baking and baking and baking and baking and baking. First you had to confirm what  were supposed to be baking, and Sam and Bessie decided on a whole list of bakes to make. You personally thought it was way too much, but they laughed and replied that the ball would be huge. After all, you had never attended one of the balls before, so you couldn't be sure.

After an exhausting week in the dreary kitchen, Bessie and Sam decided to give you a break while they had a serious discussion, though you had to stay in the house. You didn't really mind. Breathing in the aroma of bakeries, you stepped upstairs lightly. You hadn't really explored the house thoroughly, not that there were many rooms to check out anyway. So when you passed by a little room which you had never seen before, you hesitated. After a minute of dithering in the hallway, you cautiously opened the little door.

It creaked terribly, and you cringed. Still, you crept across the creaky, loose wooden floorboards and groped in the dark for a light switch. You found it and flicked it on. The room was awash with light, and this room appeared to be a study. It was filled with bookcase after bookcase, dusty yellowing books stacked neatly on the rusty shelves. This seemed to be the only area in the whole house that didn't smell of good food, and rather, it smelt like ancient books.

In the center of the room, there was a black pedestal, and on it lay the most beautiful bow and matching quiver you ever saw. It was a Chinese bow, red with a golden spiraling dragon decorously carved into its limbs. There was a sharp steel spike on the tip. It seemed dangerous, yet grand and almost . . . ancient.

"[y/n]? [y/n], we've got some news to share!" Bessie's voice floated from the kitchen downstairs. You jumped, and feeling guilty, you quickly left the room and dashed downstairs.

"Yes?" you answered breathlessly.

"Bessie and I had a discussion, as you can see," Sam said gravely. "Our bestselling product in this shop is our chocolate buns. That recipe has been passed down from my family, generation after generation. It has never failed to make one feel satisfied." he glanced at Bessie.

"So, after careful monitoring and deciding," Bessie continued, then beamed at me. "We have decided to pass on our family secret to none but you. You are the first apprentice we have that we decided to willingly pass on this recipe to. Congratulations!"

Of course you were startled - who wouldn't be? You gaped at Bessie and Sam, and tears nearly flooded your eyes. The two of them had been unbelievably kind and generous to you, and this was the peak.

"Oh my gosh, thank you!" you cried happily. "Thank you so much for giving this opportunity."

It meant more work in the kitchen, but you obligingly worked anyway, kneading the dough, sculpting and re-sculpting the bun, baking it, filling it, and icing it. It was a simple process, but had many complicated little details which one had to remember for the absolute perfect bun.

Bessie and Sam kept nudging each other and beaming at me continuously. You felt pleased with your results, and when all of you sat down to take a bite, Bessie confirmed that this one was perfect.

All the while, you felt slightly uneasy and guilty though. You shouldn't have looked through that weird room, and saw that bow and quiver of arrows. It wasn't yours, and it was wrong. Still, you couldn't do anything about that, and the least you could do was try to forget about it. And for another unknown reason, that bow and quiver of arrows kept appearing in your dreams, just like Diarmuid.

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A few days later, Sam announced that we were out of cocoa.

"Cocoa?" you questioned while kneading some dough.

"Yes, we're all out of cocoa. And if we need to make any chocolate recipes, we need cocoa. It's a little bit rushed, what with the ball only three days away, but the chocolate buns aren't quite finished, so we need cocoa. I'll be heading out with a few friends to the forest to collect more, and we'll camp for a night. I'll be back tomorrow morning tops. Think you and Bessie can handle by yourselves here?"

"Definitely," I replied while rolling the dough extra hard.

Progress was a little slower once Sam was gone, and there was still the shop to mind too. You ended up doing most of the baking while Bessie took care of the shop and came to check on your progress several times. You wanted to show you appreciation towards Bessie and Sam, so you did your doubly best to try make more progress.

After the shop closed and Bessie called you for a rest and a cup of tea, you sat back in the chair, exhausted. The work making each and every single pastry perfect was energy-draining, and you needed this break dearly.

"Thanks," you mumbled when Bessie offered you a cup of piping hot tea. You sipped at it and instantly felt your body expand and relax a little.

Bessie cooked a little supper for two, mushroom soup and some garlic bread, and you gulped everything down hungrily. You were on your last swallow of mushed garlic bread in soup, when suddenly there was a very loud knocking and urgent ringing of the doorbell. Panicked, Bessie flew to the door and unlocked it. Outside, some of Sam's friends were dithering worriedly, their clothes dirty and torn and bloodied, and they themselves looked like they'd caught a couple of scratches and bruises. Bessie's hand flew to her mouth.

"Where's Sam?!" Bessie shrieked.

"Uh . . . ma'am," stuttered one of them, shooting each other glances. "We have the answer to that."