#stingro

Sting walked into the castle’s dining room looking forward to a large breakfast, only to find the room empty. Had he missed breakfast? He didn’t think he’d gotten up that late. 

“Where is everyone?”

“The Queen requested breakfast be served in the garden today, Your Highness. I was just coming to get you.”

He turned to find Yukino, his mother’s handmaid, standing behind him.

“Oh thank god, I thought I was going to starve.”

“Always so dramatic,” Yukino giggled, “Although, you better hurry before your father eats everything.”  

Sting’s eyes widened as he realized this was a definite possibility. He thanked her and took off for the garden at a brisk pace, wanting to get there before her prediction could come true. 

The castle gardens were beautiful in spring, full of colorful blooms that scented the air with their fragrance, although at the moment the smell of bacon overpowered everything else. 

“Sting, over here!”

His father sat at a table underneath the arbored trellis and Sting hurried to join him, especially as he was piling more food onto the mountain that already sat on his plate.

“Hey, are you planning on leaving some for the rest of us?” Sting grumbled as he heaped eggs, bacon, slices of bread slathered with butter, pieces of cut up fruit and pancakes on his own plate and promptly began to eat.

“You should have gotten here earlier. There were these fantastic pastries from some new bakery in town.”

“You didn’t leave me any?!” 

His father just shrugged, looking annoyingly unrepentant. “I was hungry.”

Sting was about to start a rant when he was distracted by the sight of his mother talking to a group of people he didn’t recognize. It was hard to miss her excitement with the elaborate gestures she was making, pointing to different parts of the garden and the castle, all while smiling from ear to ear.

“What’s she up to?” he asked, mouth full of pancake. “And more importantly, should I be concerned?” 

“Well, you know your eighteenth birthday is coming up soon.”

“Yeah, so?” 

“What do you mean, so? Don’t tell me you don’t remember what happens on your eighteenth birthday?” His father stopped to peer at him and shook his head with a smile. “Of course you do. You had me going there for a moment.”  

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sting said, feeling the apprehension build inside him.

His mother had always made a big deal about his birthday, so much so that it had become a national celebration of sorts, complete with town wide fairs. He used to love the attention when he was younger, but once the girls in town started acting crazy around him, the lavish events had become a source of dread. 

What could she possibly have in store for him for his eighteenth birthday?

The answer came much sooner than he was ready for, as his mother noticed him and headed over to the table. 

“There you are!” she said, practically beaming at him as she sat down to join them.

“Here I am,” he agreed, scrambling to think of a way to convince he‌r he’d prefer a small gathering to pretty much anything she had in mind.

“Isn’t it exciting?! I’ve been waiting for this since the day you were born. It’s going to be such a magical evening!”

There were hearts in her eyes as she talked about the flowers she wanted and the performers she was going to hire, going on and on about the different things she had planned while somehow not giving him any actual information about the event itself.

“That all sounds lovely, but you know what would be nice? What if we just had a small party? I could invite some of my friends from town…” He tapered off when he saw the looks on his parents’ faces, a mixture of disbelief and mirth.

“Oh, you!” His mother tapped his arm playfully. “We can’t possibly do that. Well, maybe we could on your actual birthday, but we couldn’t just cancel the ball. It’s been a tradition since anyone can remember.”

“I’m sorry, did you say ball? As in with dancing? Cause I don’t do that.”

But his mother wasn’t listening, she was too busy giving his father The Look. The one that always made Sting feel like he should be elsewhere. And, of course, his father was returning it. 

“Do you remember your ball, Weiss?” 

“Of course I do.” His father grabbed on to his mother’s hand, holding it between his as he stared into her eyes. “It was the best night of my life.”

“Mine too.”

“Oy, can we get back to my ball? You know, the part where you explain why it’s so important we have it?” Sting insisted before they got too lost in their little bubble.

“What do you mean, why is it important? It’s where you’ll pick one of the girls from town to be your future bride!”

It was rare for Sting to be glad that his mouth was empty, but he was certain he would've choked on his food at the word bride. “Hold on a minute, you expect me to marry some random girl? Have you seen how they get around me? No, thank you.”

“This ball has been a family tradition for many generations. It’s one of the ways we show our commitment to the town. It also happens to be how I met your mother.” 

Now that Sting thought about it, he could vaguely remember his parents talking about their first meeting. He'd never cared much about the details, like there being a ball, but he’d always loved the part where his dad recalled laying eyes on his mom for the first time and feeling a “spark,” instantly knowing she was the one.

Now that he was older, the idea both intrigued and terrified him in equal measure. As nice as it sounded, he had no idea how he was supposed to know if someone was the “one”.

“Well, couldn’t we start a new tradition? Plant some trees or something?” 

“Don’t be silly,” his father said. “I know the idea can be a little scary at first. I remember how terrified I was when my parents were planning mine, but it’ll all work out, you’ll see. You have a good head on your shoulders. I know whoever you pick will make you as happy as we are.”

Sting wasn’t as sure of that. He’d given exactly zero thought to the idea of finding a girlfriend, let alone getting married, even though there were plenty of beautiful girls who had showered him with their attention. It just wasn’t something he was interested in yet. 

“We’ll have to talk about this later,” his father said, halting Sting’s protests before he even had time to voice them. “I’m about to be late for a meeting.” He got up and kissed his wife on the cheek, looking at the breakfast table one last time and grabbing a couple of strawberries before he headed back inside the castle.

“Right.”

“Does it really make you that unhappy?” His mother asked, looking crestfallen by his lack of enthusiasm, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her how he felt. Not now that he realized how important the entire experience was to her.

“I’m sure it will be fine. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

She immediately brightened at his response, and he spent the rest of breakfast shoving the food around on his plate as he half listened to his mother prattle on.

Maybe if he basked in it, her excitement would be infectious enough for him to catch it too.

0-0

After hours of listening to his mother's side of the story of the night his parents met, and following her around the gardens as she shared all her ideas for the stupid ball with him, Sting deemed it safe to say he wasn't going to catch her excitement. At all. In fact, the more he heard, the stronger he felt the urge to sneak away during the night and live a hermit's life somewhere in the countryside. No ball, no bride, no problem.

Except he knew ‌he could never do that to his parents, not to mention he was pretty sure he'd die within a few days, from something as embarrassing as eating poisonous berries. 

So that wasn't an option, but he could sure as hell escape more of mom's planning and hide out in town for the day. He took off as soon as a servant came over to ask his mother’s opinion on something.

His frustration eased the closer he got to town. It was already mid-afternoon, which meant some of his friends would be done with their jobs for the day and be free to get a drink with him at the tavern or something. He headed for the town plaza, knowing it was the most likely spot to find them.

The plaza was as busy as usual, so no one paid him any mind, but his friends easily stood out in the crowd. He watched with an amused smile as Natsu sat on a bench arm wrestling Gajeel while bickering with Gray.

“If you don’t stop paying attention to your little girlfriend, I’m going to wipe the floor with you,” Gajeel taunted.

“Call me that one more time, and he won’t be the one you have to worry about,” Gray said, sounding as grumpy as usual.  

“As if you could,” Natsu snorted, “I could beat you blindfolded and with one arm tied behind my back. So could the Princess, for that matter.”

Sting noticed that for once Gray didn’t complain about being called Princess, but he figured the guy had finally realized it was a losing battle. The more he protested, the more Natsu would do it to annoy him.  

“You care to put that to the test?” Sting interrupted, not giving Gajeel a chance to respond, “Cause I think I might have some rope on me.”

“Sting!” Natsu said, overpowering Gajeel in one quick move and getting up to greet him. “You’re back!”

Sting winced at hearing his name said so loudly. He glanced around furtively, trying to gauge how much attention Natsu’s outburst had attracted. A group of girls waved at him when he looked their way, immediately dissolving into giggles and squeals when he gave a half-hearted wave back. He’d probably be okay for a few more minutes, but he should really move somewhere indoors soon before anyone else noticed him.

“That’s cheating. I wasn’t ready!”

“Let it go, man.” Gray said with a shrug. “It wouldn’t have made much of a difference, anyway. He always wins.”

It didn’t seem like Gajeel had any intention of letting it go, so Sting bumped him on the shoulder before things would escalate further. “I tell you what, since I was the one to distract you, how about I buy you a drink to make up for it?” 

“We can get a drink later. First, you gotta try something from the new bakery that Gajeel’s uncle opened up while you were away. Wendy works there.”

“Oh yeah, my dad mentioned something about that earlier. Not that I got to try anything,” Sting pouted at the reminder of the morning's betrayal. “Bastard ate it all.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Gray said, giving Natsu a meaningful look.

“Right? My dad does that all the time, too!”

Gajeel scoffed at the response, but he already seemed to be in a better mood. “Are you ladies going to stand here and chat all day, or are we going to the damn bakery?” 

“Funny you should say that…” Sting shoved him forward, having noticed one of his admirers–a particularly persistent one–coming closer. “Let’s go! Lead the way!”

Gajeel grumbled about the rough treatment, but he got moving and as soon as Sting saw where he was heading, he felt like an idiot. The new bakery was in exactly the same place as the old one. Of course it was. Had he really been expecting there to be two bakeries in a small town?

“So, uhm, how is your uncle liking Saber?” he asked, wanting to get back into Gajeel’s good graces, now that his escape was imminent.

“He seems to like it, but he hasn’t seen how harebrained the royals are yet.”

“Oy! In some kingdoms, you could get beheaded for saying something like that, you know.”

“Yeah?” Gajeel said, opening the door and ushering them inside, “Too bad for you, this ain’t one of them.”

Sting was about to joke he could always change that when he caught his first whiff of baked goods. 

“Smells good, right?” Natsu smiled at him knowingly, “Just wait ‘til you taste them.”

And without another word, he dragged him towards the counter. Not that Sting minded, because by this point he was practically drooling in anticipation. He had barely enough time to notice Gray and Gajeel heading towards a small sitting area before being distracted by a display of baked goods, many of which he didn’t recognize.

Everything looked so delicious he couldn’t decide what to try first, and when he heard footsteps approaching from behind the counter, he figured why not try them all?

“Can I help you?” the deep voice of a man addressed him. Definitely not Wendy's, so Sting looked up, assuming he was about to meet Gajeel's uncle.

“Yeah, I'd like one of–” 

He fell silent, surprised to come face to face with a guy who looked to be his age. He had hair as black as licorice, tied back in a high ponytail, and skin as fair as cream, but it was his eyes that held Sting in a trance. They were the most beautiful shade of red he’d ever seen, reminding him of the dark cherries that grew in the castle’s garden. He couldn’t help but stare into them, his order completely forgotten.

“Yes? One of what?”

Sting blinked at the question, trying to make sense of this feeling that had come over him. He could tell the guy was getting annoyed by his lack of response and he tried to pull himself together long enough to order, but he couldn’t seem to put words together to save his life.

“Hey Rogue, get him the Natsu special,” Natsu said, coming to his rescue. “And, same for me.”

“Seriously? There’s someone else who eats like you?” Rogue sighed. “I’ll be right back with those.”

“Let’s go sit down. It’s going to take him a while to grab everything,” Natsu said, walking over to their friends’ table and taking a seat next to Gray. 

Sting stared after Rogue for a moment longer before joining his friends. He tried to join their conversation, but every few minutes his eyes strayed back to the door Rogue had gone through.

“Were you starved during your winter holiday or something?” Gray raised an eyebrow at him.

“Huh?”

“He means you haven’t stopped staring at the kitchen door since you sat down,” Gajeel pointed out, “Are you that hungry?! Cause I can light a fire under my cousin if you want, I doubt my uncle wants the Prince to pass out at his bakery.” 

“What?! No, I’m fine, I was just thinking about something.”

And he was, or rather, someone. 

It was exciting to have someone new settle in Saber. They were a pretty small kingdom, and it wasn’t often that new people moved here. But now they had, and Sting had made possibly the poorest first impression ever.

He couldn't let that slide, especially considering he was bound to see a lot of the guy given he was Gajeel’s cousin. Plus, he loved pastries, so he was sure he’d be a regular here.