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

VIIII. Ball

The victory ball hosted by the king was coming soon. You kneaded the dough furiously just thinking about it. You still had much work to do, and you needed to work fast. You flipped the dough and kneaded it harder than before. The king - King Fionn, apparently - had recently elected you as the newest member of the Heroic Forces. However, your training only truly began after the victory ball, a request you'd asked for. You sprinkled some flour onto the dough and continued to work on it. Knowing that once you started training, you wouldn't be seeing Bessie and Sam for a long, long time after that. You'd only be able to visit them on short trips and day-offs. Therefore, you stated your last wish would be to spend as much time as you could with the kindly couple. You rolled the dough one last time before palming a sharp knife and carefully setting it into the dough.

"You're doing well, [y/n]," came Bessie's melodious voice from the shop. She came in the kitchen a moment later, smiling all over her pink plump face. "You're so passionate about this - youth, I suppose - I will certainly miss you when you've gone to the Heroic Forces," she wiped an imaginary tear from her eye dramatically.

"Me, or my baking?" you joked easily, beginning to roll the dough and shape it.

"We'll definitely miss you, that's for sure," she replied cheerily.

Still, you felt a pang when the harsh fact of having to leave these two caring people in less than three days. Powered by that, you worked harder than ever on the desserts which would be served at the ball.

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It was the day of the ball.

And you had absolutely no idea what to wear.

Bessie said that she and Sam would be attending purely to enjoy watching the guests enjoy their food and for the hospitality. They chose to wear simple garments, although most of the guests would be dressed fancily. Sam added that "fashion was never really up our alley, and we're only there in case of a sweet treat emergency."

You'd assumed that you'd be following them, but Bessie instantly reacted dismayed when you announced your decision to follow them along.

"Dearie me, no, my child!" she cried in aghast. "You're still young and energetic, not old and lame like us! Wear something beautiful to the ball - enjoy your last night with us!"

You wanted to spend the night with them, but after receiving their reaction, you decided it was best to follow their advice and try to enjoy yourself. It had been so long since you took a break to relax - the ball would be a perfect opportunity. Still, you had nothing to wear...

"But she doesn't have a single decent thing to wear, Bess, and I'm no fashion expert," Sam retorted. "I do suppose you could scrounge up something, couldn't you? You're a fine seamstress, perhaps you could alter an old gown of yours."

"You're right, Sam. I'd better find something decent for [y/n] to wear - though I doubt my sewing skills are any good nowadays. It's been ages since I touched a needle... " Bessie quickly remembered your presence and jumped to attention. "But no time to recall my past. Let's find a pretty dress for you, and fast."

Two hours later, Bessie burst into the kitchen, where you were packing up the last of the pastries and cakes and other tasty desserts for transportation to the palace, where you would later arrange, decorate and touch up the desserts for display. Sam was also with you, handling the delicious treats with experienced efficiency and seeming effortlessness.

"[y/n], come quick! We don't have much time before we need to get ready for the ball, so I want you to come take a look at the dress I picked out, pronto!"

You glanced at Sam for approval, and he nodded his head. "I can manage the rest of these. Go along with Bess, I don't mind."

You swiftly left the kitchen, following an overly-enthusiastic Bessie to the dining hall, where she brandished an evening dress she'd found eagerly. When the dress finally stopped fluttering, you carefully examined the dress.