Micchi-sama

Tristan aggressively polishes his suit. He knows he is preparing for a dangerous battle. His family has been at war with Ban’s family for years. A heated rivalry. Now it is time for another battle. They are both after the same thing, the same bank with the same money. Tristan needs to make his family proud. Everyone in his family has earned a terrifying nickname. His dad is the sin of wrath and his mom earned herself the nickname bloody Ellie. He needs to make them proud and earn his own nickname.

He checks his weapons, making sure everything is perfect. Today he would be facing off against the God of War, Ban’s sole son and heir. If he wins this, he could end the rivalry and earn himself a nickname.

Soon enough it's time for him to make his way out into the city. He tugs his mask over his face and cuts through alleyways. His heart is pounding, he’s never met this villain before. It can't be so bad, they both come from esteemed villain families.

Finally, he reaches the bank. His heart stutters with surprise. Outside the door is a boy around his age, no older than 13 leaning against the wall. He had expected a fully grown man not a teen the same age as him.

The boy glances over, his crimson eyes narrowed but he seems uncaring once he sees Tristan’s signature long silver hair.

“God of War, stand down. This is my mark.” Tristan tries his best at a villain voice but it’s mediocre at best. He doesn’t seem intimidated.

“Just call me Lancelot. You’re Meliodas’ son, right?”

Tristan takes a step back, “y-yeah…I am. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all, our fathers are friends.” He seems…friendly? Tristan doesn’t trust it. He can’t let his guard down. Not when he’s so close to defeating this boy and taking down his father’s enemies.

Tristan grabs his weapon and readies himself for a fight, “Our fathers are enemies.”

“What?” Lancelot seems genuinely confused. It makes Tristan falter. He had always assumed they were enemies, two powerful villain bosses. How could they be friends?

“You didn’t know?”

“I just assumed-” Tristan stutters. He spots a bench nearby and sits down, “what a mess. I thought I was going to have to fight you.”

Lancelot just stares at him, confused, “I don’t really think you’d win.”

Tristan scoffs, “Oh please, I would absolutely win.” He pulls down his mask, now frustrated. Lancelot just laughs.

“Come on. How about we save the bank for another day. I’ll tell you the truth about our families and maybe you can buy us ice cream.”

“I’m not buying you ice cream, you’re paying for it.”

“Ugh fine. I’ll pay for it. Just, come with me?”

Tristan pauses to assess for any malintent. All he sees is a lonely boy who probably doesn’t have many friends. Lancelot is already making his way to the ice cream truck. He buys two cones, handing one to Tristan who has still refused to move from the bench. He sits next to Tristan, assessing him just as much as Tristan has been observing him.

“So…um…our dads are really friends?” Tristan speaks quietly.

“Yeah, they have been for years. I’m surprised your dad didn’t tell you. Maybe he was just letting you believe we were enemies.”

“I didn’t know villains could have friends.” Tristan looks away.

“Me neither. I don’t meet a lot of kids my age.”

“Maybe we could be friends…if you want?” Tristan fidgets nervously.

Lancelot looks at him for a moment and laughs, “y’know, you aren’t much of a villain. You aren’t very scary.”

“I could say the same for you, fox boy.” Tristan teases.

“Hey! They call me God of War for a reason.”

“A cringy nickname you made up?” Tristan retorts.

Lancelot playfully punches his shoulder. “Whatever, idiot. Yeah, we’ll be friends.”

“Good. You’re never getting rid of me now.”

“I should hope not.” Lancelot wraps an arm over his shoulders. “Now about that bank…”

“Fifty fifty split if we do it together?”

For fairies, snow has always meant staying inside. To go outside in the frost could easily damage their delicate wings. Thankfully, the fairy forest does not get winter. The only issue with staying in the fairy king’s forest is that there is no Tristan.

Tristan loves the snow. He loves building snowmen and making literal snow angels with his goddess wings. He has snowball fights with his friends and catches snowflakes like a child.

Lancelot is forced to watch from the sidelines, bundled in three layers to protect his wings. He sniffles as he watches Tristan throw a snowball. Too cold. Much too cold. Tristan notices his discomfort and wanders over, a polite smile gracing his face.

“Wanna go back inside?” He asks gently. Lancelot nods, giving another weak sniffle, the cold has already irritated his nose.

Tristan helps him back into the warmth of the castle, sitting him next to a fireplace. Warm, it feels nice. He closes his eyes.

“Snow is too cold.” Lancelot mumbles. “You’re much warmer.”

“Of course I'm warm, I’m half demon.” Tristan looks concerned, “You look like you want to cocoon yourself again.” He can’t help but remember last winter when Lancelot would cocoon himself in blankets and sleep the whole day away.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“You know…there is a lot more to winter than just snow.” Tristan smiles, “let me show you a true winter, please?”

“You’re not going to give me a choice, are you?”

“Absolutely not.” Tristan grabs a blanket from the couch, “stay here. I’m going to make us some drinks to warm you up.”

He leaves and a few minutes later returns with hot chocolate. He sits down and smiles.

“Lance, this is hot chocolate. Its a winter drink. Try some.”

Lancelot takes a small sip and immediately gags, “Its disgusting. Why would you make chocolate warm? Ew.”

Tristan is astonished, “you really don’t like it?” He takes a sip of his own, just to test if he made it right. It tastes amazing to him but Lancelot isn’t used to hot drinks. He has never had coffee, tea or hot chocolate. It must have been a shock. “I guess you just don’t like it because it’s warm.”

“It’s weird. Drinks should be cold and refreshing, not…that…” He sighs, “I hate winter. I knew I should have slept through it.”

Tristan looks around, “you like cuddling by the fireplace, that’s a winter activity!”

“We can cuddle anytime of the year.”

“Ugh…” Tristan fumbles, “Can I seriously not convince you to like winter?”

“Never, I hate it. It’s cold and dark and wet. It's the worst.”

Tristan groans and thinks for a moment. What could make Lancelot love winter as much as he loves it. Then it occurs to him, something beautiful that only occurs in winter. He grabs Lancelot and drags him to the balcony.

“What are you doing?!” Lancelot is startled by the sudden pulling. He looks wide eyed.

“I want to show you something. I think it’s time.”

They watch the sun set together and soon enough under the dark sky they see the northern lights. The aurora borealis.

Lancelot gasps. He’s never seen anything that beautiful before. He takes Tritan’s hand. “Wow.” It’s the only word he can come up with.

“So do you love winter yet?”

Another day at the restaurant, cooking, cleaning, running the show. Lancelot watches with a critical eye as his chefs prepare for the coming service. Running a high end restaurant like ‘Dame du lac’ is not easy. Everything needs to be micromanaged.

After his adventures at age 13, he had decided to calm down a bit, settle in Liones and start a restaurant. His father had taught him to cook and he intended to utilize those skills to make some money. This would finance his journey to save Jericho and earn him information, similar to what uncle Meliodas did with the ‘Boar hat’ tavern.

The moment the doors are set to open, Lancelot can hear a commotion from outside.

‘Ugh not already. Why does he have to show up every day?’

He can already hear the overly cheery voice, “Lance come out here! Be my personal chef!

Lancelot ignores him. He and Tristan were childhood friends, when the prince came to try his food, he loved it. The prince had loved it so much he wanted Lancelot to be his personal chef. No matter how many times he says no, the idiot just keeps coming back.

He turns to his chefs, “Keep prepping. I will be right back.” With that, he steps out of the kitchen to go deal with Tristan. He would never make his serving staff deal with such an annoying guest.

“Lance! There you are! Be my personal chef! Please! Your cooking is the best!” Tristan is practically begging. Lancelot has to look away. He is too soft sometimes. Tristan is too cute to say no to.

Still, he manages. “I already said no. Now either eat or get out of my restaurant, guests are arriving soon.”

“Fine, I’ll eat. But one of these days I’ll convince you.”

“I have to get back to my kitchen. Enjoy your meal.” Lancelot slams the kitchen door in his face. He takes a breath. As much as he wants to be Tristan’s personal chef, he has a mission. He needs to gather information about Jericho and he needs to save her.

Service runs smoothly and Tristan stays at his table the entire time. He runs up a tab of drinks and food that would make anyone else shudder. Lancelot knows he can afford it at least, the boy is the prince of Liones after all. His allowance is more than Lancelot makes in a month.

‘Stupid rich prince.’

Lancelot wanders out to the main floor of the restaurant after service. He finds Tristan in his usual spot.

“Fine. Come here.” Lancelot waves him over.

Tristan jumps up like an excited puppy. He practically runs over. Lancelot pulls him into the kitchen where his staff are packing up and going home. The kitchen is almost empty.

Lancelot leans against the counter, “If you can cook me an edible meal in 5 minutes I will be your personal chef.”

“5 minutes?! At least give me an hour!”

“If my chefs can do it, so can you.”

“Fine.” He looks around for ingredients. He fumbles around, trying to put oil in a pan and causing a fire. Lancelot looks disappointed, putting a lid over the fire to stop it. He takes the pan and puts it into one of the sinks with the lid on it.

Lancelot gives him a smirk, “Wow you suck.”

“I tried my best!”

“I think you should go home.”

“Same time tomorrow?” Lancelot teases.

“Of course I’ll be here at the same time tomorrow.” Tristan slams the door.

Tristan collapses on the couch as soon as he gets back to the castle. He lets out a sigh of defeat. Meliodas glances over at him, smirking.

“Defeated again?” Meliodas sits next to him.

“Yeah. He refuses to be my personal chef. But he’s amazing!”

“You know…instead of spending thousands every day, why not take another angle.” Meliodas has that look in his eye, like he has a plan. He takes out a silver bracelet with a charm on it, a blue heart. It’s a courting gift.

Tristan gasps, “Papa, Are you serious?”

“I am. If you marry him, he will be able to cook you as much food as you want. And I know you love him. If you didn’t, you wouldn't be spending so much money at his restaurant.”

“You're right! Tomorrow I will offer it to him. I’m going to court him no matter what.”

Unaware of the gift coming to him tomorrow, Lancelot sits at his desk. He analyzes every piece of evidence, finding nothing concrete. He ends up falling asleep at his desk with numbers going through his head.

The next morning, Tristan arrives. The same time as usual. Though now, he doesn’t cause a commotion. He just sits quietly at his table ordering his usual drinks, mostly juice.

At the end of service, he walks over to the kitchen and smiles kindly at one of the servers. “Could you tell Chef Lancelot that I would like to speak to him?”

The server rolls her eyes with a fond smile, “at it again, are you?”

“Yes I am, Anne. Though this time I’m taking a new strategy.”

“Good luck.” She goes into the kitchen and tells Lancelot that Tristan is waiting. Lancelot comes out looking grumpy. He had gotten nowhere yesterday and he is in a sour mood.

“What do you want, Tristan?” Lancelot scowls.

Tristan notices his bad mood and realizes now is not a good time to give his gift. He instead tries something else. “Come have a drink with me?”

“A drink?” Lancelot looks confused.

“Yeah. just one. I’ll buy it of course. I just- you seem stressed.”

Lancelot softens, he even smiles slightly. He allows Tristan to lead the way to the bar. “Fine, one drink.”

But it’s never just one drink for the two of them. One turns into three which turns into a drinking competition between the two. Eventually Tristan is stumbling slightly. He almost falls out of his chair and he giggles, not noticing the box containing the bracelet fall to the floor.

Lancelot picks it up and opens it. His alcohol-ridden brain immediately sees the shiny thing and wants it. “It’s pretty.” He slurs.

“It’s for you.” Tristan giggles, his words muddled.

“For me?” Lancelot puts on the bracelet.

“Yah! Be my partner! Come live with me at the castle. You don't have to cook for me, just be with me.” Tristan mumbles against the bar.”

Lancelot starts sobbing, “that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.” He sniffles, the alcohol enhancing his emotions. “I would love to be your partner.”

Tristan lets out a giddy laugh but he can’t get up off the bar. Eventually the bartender manages to drag them both back to the castle where Meliodas puts them to bed.