Poor Tristan, Lancelot didn't let him fulfill his fantasy,but it's for the best if he still wants to sleep by his side and eat the delicious meals he prepares.
I also wrote a fanfiction for this theme, i hope u like it 🤭
Summary:
"In a world where, sixteen years earlier, the Demon King had managed to gain complete control of his son’s body, he killed Elizabeth and almost all of Britannia’s warriors.
Two years before her death, however, Elizabeth gave birth to Tristan, who was raised by his grandfather to be a demon as ruthless and cruel as himself.
The demon clan has conquered almost all of Britannia, but there is still one kingdom that manages to rebel against this tyranny: the kingdom of Benwick.
The holy knight Lancelot meet the prince of demons, and just as 3,000 years earlier, this simple encounter will change the course of the holy war."
Im late again, I know. In my defence, I’m old and I lose track of time. My memory isn’t what it used to be (I’m totally being dramatic, I got distracted by food so that’s why I’m late)
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?”
“Sounds fair.” Lancelot stands up and Tristan joins him. They both pull on their masks and get to work.
This day was the hardest to write for. I had no idea what to write. Hopefully this short little chapter is good. I genuinely almost fell asleep without posting it I was so tired.
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?”
“I hate it. Winter is still the worst. But yu love winter and I love you. So I guess I can put up with it. Since it means so much to you and since you spent all day trying to get me to love it.”
