Idv Anne - Blog Posts

Sweetest Thing (Royal!Anne×Baker!Reader)

AN: This started as a Xiao fluff fic, then an angst one after a friend said I couldn't be evil, but somehow ended up turning into an Anne fluff fic. It was also only supposed to be 1.5k words at most though, that didn't happen either. Writing really is an experience. Also sorry about your divorce omw to fight Vin/hj Word count: 2.3k words Summary: Princess Anne tries to bake you cookies after seeing you feeling down. It doesn't go well.

Anne awkwardly looks at the pile of ominous mush in the pan. It smells faintly of charcoal, smoke, and regrets. It honestly smelled better than it looked, considering it looked like an abomination of nature and a war crime to all of Oletus Kingdom.

'Perhaps... I'm not suited for things like baking.' Anne thought, letting an embarrassed smile form upon her lips. She put down the tray and took off the oven mitts. Although she wasn't surprised, she couldn't help but be disappointed nonetheless.

For the longest time, the bakers of the Lester Royal Family were your ancestors. Raised to serve the country's sovereign, you were well known throughout the entire kingdom and beyond for your baking skills. You were called a genius, a prodigy, practically born to be a Royal Baker, which wouldn't necessarily be incorrect.

However, Anne could never accept that. Before you could be properly trained to become a Royal Baker, you were her playmate. While her parents wanted her to hang out with nobility, Anne had found herself drawn to you. Perhaps it was the ever lingering scent of baked goods on you, or the fact that you'd sneak her treats when she wasn't supposed to have any.

Regardless, she saw you as a friend first and foremost. You weren't the Royal Baker, her servant, or anything else like that. Anne would never let those titles define who you are as a person, not when she had gotten to know who you are before those titles were stuck upon you. Even now, when you two are older, when things are more complicated than they were before, she can't see you as anything less than, well, you.

She had seen you looking rather upset; so as any good friend would do, she tried to cheer you up. Anne's plan was simple: make you cookies. It would be especially meaningful if she made it herself, so she shooed off the worried servants from the extra kitchen and got ready.

It couldn't be that hard, right? She wasn't expecting them to be perfect or anything, just decent, or at least edible. With a cookbook and some of the best ingredients in the kingdom, it was basically impossible for Anne to fail!

She was severely mistaken.

Baking was far harder than the princess had anticipated. It required precision, practice, time management, multitasking, and so much more. It was honestly overwhelming. There was seemingly so much time to do this and that, but then, in the blink of an eye, something was burning.

Sulking a bit, Anne glanced sullenly at the flour dusted pages of the cookbook. It sat there innocently, as if it hadn't misled her. The picture of the perfect finished product taunted her in all its glory, looking scrumptious.

Her stomach growled, to which she let out a groan immediately afterward. It had been a rough few hours, and she hadn't gotten around to eating. She'd strictly informed the servants not to enter until she came out. Respecting her orders, they didn't come in at all, even just to inform her that it was lunchtime. Perhaps they had said it outside the door, but she just hadn't heard.

Either way, Anne was hungry, tired, and a bit let down. Thus, she sluggishly started to clean up the mess she had made, carefully tossing dirty bowls and spatulas into the sink. She quickly wiped the counter with a wet rag before washing her hands, humming faintly.

Turning around, she faced her little atrocities. She honestly didn't know what to do with them. It felt like a waste to throw away, but these were most definitely anything but edible. It could probably be used as a poison, if you can even convince someone to try it.

Anne prepared to throw away the results of her hours of effort, a bruised ego her only other prize, when the door opened. Surprised, she set down the tray immediately to see who it was.

There you stood, looking vaguely concerned as you stepped into the kitchen. The door clicked shut behind you like the final strike of a clock, declaring the end of her life.

'Oh God why.'

Her face flushed red as she fully turned around to hide the tray behind her body. Anne knew very well you'd likely have seen it coming in, but she still tried to conceal her humiliating attempt at cookies.

Trying to seem calm, she plastered a strained smile to her face and observed you. You weren't in your work clothes, dressed more for an outing, if anything. It reminded her that she had invited you to come try her cookies around this time since it was your day off.

Anne of the past had believed she would've made good cookies by now.

Ha. Haha.

Past Anne was dreadfully wrong, and she couldn't curse herself enough for her arrogance.

"Anne? Are you alright? I came as you asked but uh... you seem busy." You slowly walk towards her, watching as immediately her smile drops and she panics. You pause as she rips a tray off the counter and tries to shove the entire thing in a trash can. She fails, as instead of dumping it in sideways, she threw it down flat.

The tray clangs loudly against the rim of the trash can, echoing in the kitchen. The charred... whatever it is, jumps up and down a few times, adding a few crispy crackles and wet splats to the odd symphony of noise.

If Anne's face could turn any redder, it would.

You stare at Anne, bewildered. The usually sweet and composed princess was no more, reduced to nothing but a bumbling mess. She looked like she would want nothing more than for the Earth to swallow her whole.

"...are you alright?" You ask again, genuinely worried that Anne was going half catatonic on you. She had stopped floundering by now, elegantly folding her hands in front of her. She stared at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"...yes. I'm perfectly fine." Her voice cracked, but she pretended that didn't happen. In fact, Anne was trying to forget everything that had happened in the past few minutes. She didn't want to think about it.

You squint your eyes at her before turning to get a better look at the tray she so desperately wanted to keep away from you. Initially, Anne tries to hide it, but after carefully moving her aside, you see it all.

The burnt, dry, yet somehow also wet mush on the tray is somewhat of a familiar sight to you. It reminds you of when you were younger, when you were just an apprentice baker, if you could even be called that. Many failed attempts were made those days, but it was necessary for you to become the baker you are today. It felt nostalgic.

Turning to the cookbook nearby, you read the description. Your brows raise in surprise before you face Anne once more. She looks ready to sprint out the room, noble etiquette be damned.

Seeing her flustered like this was rare and precious, but you knew you shouldn't tease. From the few clues around the kitchen, as well as the fact that you'd been invited at this time, you could piece together what had happened.

Silently, you pull out a sandwich from the picnic basket you'd been lugging with you. You pass it to Anne, watching her stare at you in confusion. She quickly gives up on finding answers, preferring to eat first rather than asking questions.

Gently placing the picnic basket on the counter, you continue to take out the packed dishes and drinks. You pour a glass of lemonade before sending it Anne's way, watching as she quickly takes it with a curt "thank you." You could understand now why the servants had seemed so relieved to see you.

The kitchen servants had asked you to bring food to the princess while you were visiting, worried beyond belief but unable to defy her orders. Her command that no one could enter the kitchen lest she exit was a bit unreasonable, but they didn't dare disobey her. They could only await her exit anxiously before you came, concerned for her health.

"...I was trying to make cookies for you." She starts, having finished her meal. You hum in response, taking a sip of your drink. "It didn't turn out well, as you can see."

It certainly didn't.

You glance at the dirty dishes in the sink, then remember how her attempt had looked. It was... evidently not her specialty, making sweets, but that was no fault of hers. Anne had never baked in her life.

Most people didn't realize how much effort it took, and didn't bother trying, daunted by the idea of doing something new. Yet, Anne tried. She was brave enough to try regardless of the likelihood of failure. That was still something to be proud of.

"I noticed you'd been feeling a bit down these days, so I wanted to cheer you up. Your cookies always cheer me up, so I thought I could make my own to do the same for you." She rattled on, pouting slightly. She was truly hoping to impress you, or at least be able to give you something so that you would smile.

You stare at her in surprise. It wasn't every day that someone tried to make you baked treats, much less a literal princess. People typically thought that since you were a baker, you could just make stuff for yourself and wouldn't care about receiving them. They aren't wrong. You can always make your own goods, but it'd still be nice to receive some. However, you understood that at the same time, you'd have to have a lot of courage to give a Royal Baker baked treats.

"Well, do you want to make cookies together, then?" You ask, smiling gently at Anne. She looks at you in surprise, then joy. Her face lights up as she enthusiastically shouts, "Yes!"

So, after chatting a bit more, the two of you clean up the counter to get ready to bake. You pull flour, sugar, and other ingredients from the shelves, flitting from place to place. Anne watches, having set the washed bowls, whisks, and spatulas on the counter.

As you instruct her to mix together ingredients while you preheat the oven, she can't help but admire you. You quickly preheat the oven, set a timer, and then start chopping chocolate bars on a cutting board in a single rotation. Your movements are quick and efficient, elegant in their own right.

"Your cookies were rather, er, wet but burnt at the same time. I'm guessing you probably used too much butter and sugar." You noted, swiftly sliding the chopped chocolate off the cutting board and into a bowl. Anne hums a confirmation, starting to pull the dough out of its bowl and kneading it on the counter.

"It was really dry, so I thought I should add some butter since they said to be careful with the amount of milk we used. I added more sugar since I thought that it'd taste better if it's sweeter. After all, there's a lot of dark chocolate in here." You look at the cookbook, realizing she's right. Although she went about it incorrectly, Anne's line of thought was perfectly reasonable.

"If you want it to be sweeter, we can substitute some of the dark chocolate for milk chocolate. As for the dryness, that's temporary. It might seem like nothing is changing, but just keep kneading." You never explicitly say that the way she did things was wrong, only offering the correct solution. She appreciated that you didn't scold her or say aloud her mistakes.

You were always conscientious, making sure to be firm but not harsh, respectful, but not distant. Despite the fact that you were well aware she was a princess, you always treated her as a friend when alone.

Anne didn't want to lose you due to things like birth rights and the like. To be perfectly honest, her role as a princess was more a chain that held her back than a key that unlocked opportunities for her.

If there was one thing she wished for more than anything, it would be to have you by her side forever. Her title wouldn't help her with that, only getting in the way if anything.

Still, she was willing to fight for the chance to be with you, to see you smile, to see you laugh, to see you sneakily offer her another treat that you knew she wasn't allowed to have.

She would do everything in her power to be with you, because to Anne, you were sweeter than any treat you could make.

"And... done."

You wipe the sweat off your forehead, turning to look at Anne. You're both dusted in flour and a bit disheveled. Yet, you don't think you've ever felt as happy as you have at this moment.

"We're done!" She cheers, looking at the finished cookies with pride. With your teamwork, the two of you managed to make them perfectly, a few adjustments made to suit your preferences. They were cooled and dusted in sea salt, the rich scent of chocolate filling the room.

Your gaze softens at how Anne jumps up and down in exhilaration. It had been a bit difficult, but it was fun working with her to bake cookies. It was silly, it was loose, and it was just you two being you.

Carefully, you place the cookies onto a plate, watching Anne place two cups of milk on the counter. You take one cup to your side as you place the plate between you two, glancing up at her with a smile.

As the setting sun caresses your skin and embraces Anne, the two of you eat your cookies. The undertones of coffee and dark chocolate are a bit bitter, but the sweetness of the milk chocolate matches it perfectly. Just as such, through the bitterness of failure, the sweetness of your smile made Anne feel as if this day was a success. She hopes you'll bake with her again.

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