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libraryofgage · 2 months

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The Prince and the Metalhead (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

I am once again posting the modern royalty au hfjsdk

The next one is gonna have the beginnings of Steddie, but take some happy Steve fluff for now lol

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :^)

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Steve wakes up on the morning of his twelfth birthday to Dart burrowing between his cheek and the pillow, drenching both in excited slobber. He wrinkles his nose, rolling over and wiping slobber off with a corner of his sheets. When Dart begins to burrow under his neck, he accepts that he's not going back to sleep, and sits up.

He picks Dart up, huffing slightly under her increased weight, and places her in his lap. She wiggles around, nearly vibrating off of him. "Good morning," Steve says, scratching behind her ear and earning a bark in return. He takes it as her wishing him a happy birthday and nods. "Thanks, Dart."

With a deep breath, he throws off the covers and slides out of bed. He opens the door of his room to find Clarisse already there, her hand raised as thought ready to knock. She blinks, holding Steve's gaze for a few seconds before lowering her hand and clearing her throat. "Good morning, Steve."

"Good morning, Grandmother."

She smiles at him, her shoulders relaxing some. "Happy birthday."

"You...know it's my birthday?"

"Of course," she says, nodding once as she gestures inside the room. Steve steps out of the way, allowing Clarisse into the room. A man in a suit follows after her, placing a long box on the desk and bowing to them both before quickly leaving. "Your twelfth birthday marks a very important milestone for Genovian royalty."

Steve blinks, quietly shutting the door as Clarisse sits at the desk the box has been placed on. "How so?" Steve asks, sitting on the bed and pulling his legs under him. Dart jumps up after him, rolling around in the sheets by his knee.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, the tenth birthday is the important one," Clarisse admits, "That marks your capability of taking on increased responsibilities as royalty. However, you weren't here then. So, the twelfth will be important, instead."

That only sort of answers his question, but Steve nods anyway, deciding he doesn't want to risk annoying Clarisse.

"Genovian princes begin learning swordsmanship after their tenth birthday. It's not a requirement anymore, of course, but I wanted to offer you the opportunity," Clarisse explains, picking up the box as she stands and sitting on the other side of Steve. "Consider this a birthday gift from me as Queen of Genovia."

"What does that mean?" Steve asks, carefully taking the box.

"It means you're still getting a gift from me as your grandmother."

Steve nods once, trying to process this as he looks back down at the box. "Can I open it?"

"Of course."

Carefully, he pulls the lid off the box. He was expecting the sword inside, but he's still surprised by the sight of it. The blade gleams in the light, and the hilt is encrusted with a line of colorful jewels. When he looks closer, he realizes the hilt is also engraved with names, and Steve soon finds his own among them. "What are the names for?" he asks.

"Every owner of this sword has their name engraved on the hilt," Clarisse says, smiling gently. "This sword is yours, Steve. It will always be yours, and your name there is proof of that."

"Oh," Steve breathes, slowly wrapping his hand around the hilt and lifting the sword from the box. He keeps the blade aimed away from himself, Dart, and Clarisse, unwilling to risk harming them. "Will I be fighting anyone?" he asks.

"No, no, of course not," Clarisse says, waving away the concern. "Swordsmanship is a way to keep active and connect to Genovian culture. It is also a rather handy skill to show off for visiting dignitaries."

Steve smiles slightly, lifting the sword some and noting that it's heavier than is comfortable. It'll be easier to carry and swing as he gets stronger, though. "Thank you, Grandmother," he says, his voice soft as he carefully places the sword back in the box.

"I do hope you'll wear it to your birthday party next week."

Steve blinks, looking up at Clarisse with a confused frown. "Birthday party?" he asks. He doesn't like parties; he especially doesn't like parties where he's supposed to be the center of them. All that happens is shoes that pinch his feet, subtle but sharp glares from his parents when he doesn't behave exactly as they want, and his stomach growling because he's not allowed to eat anything to avoid getting his clothes messy.

"Yes," Clarisse says, smiling warmly at Steve. "I intend to officially introduce you as Crown Prince of Genovia at your birthday. Of course, you'll be free to play with the other children once I have."

"Do...do I have to have a birthday party?" Steve asks, avoiding Clarisse's eyes so he doesn't have to see the anger or disappointment that follows his question.

A gentle hand rests on his shoulder, the palm warm and reassuring. "No, you don't," Clarisse says, "I want you to be comfortable, Steve. If you would be more comfortable not having a party, then we simply won't have one."

"You wouldn't get in trouble?"

"With who? I am the queen, you know. There are very few people who can scold me, and even fewer I would take seriously."

Steve nods, looking back down at the sword in its box. He doesn't want to disappoint Clarisse, and this party sounds like it's important. Maybe he can just grin and bear it like he usually does. Getting to play with Robin and Jonathan after being introduced will make that easier. Yeah. He can handle it for a few minutes, especially if it will make Clarisse smile.

"It's okay," Steve says, glancing up at his grandmother. "We should have the party."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Clarisse smiles, her expression soft and warm, and Steve feels grounded and happy with his decision. "Okay, then. Just tell me if you change your mind, Steve. I won't be angry."

"I know, Grandmother."

"Now," Clarisse says, clapping her hands together as she easily changes the subject, "Let's move along. You've got a birthday breakfast waiting for you."

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"Ugh, all the girls keep staring at you," Robin says, her nose crinkled with annoyance when Steve glances at her. Her arms are crossed, her hip jutting out slightly so the hilt of her sword gently bumps against the hilt of Steve's. "Don't they know you're a dingus?"

"They're enamored by his hair," Jonathan says, his words quickly followed by a flash as he takes a photo. Steve looks at him now, watching as he lowers the camera. "It defies gravity."

"Is that all I am? A dingus with good hair?" Steve asks, unable to help an amused smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, you're not bad with a sword, either," Robin admits, nudging him with her elbow.

"Your Mandarin is passable, I guess," Jonathan adds.

"My Mandarin is flawless, thanks," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he looks back out at the crowd. Guests in formal dress are mingling around the ballroom and completely ignoring Steve, Robin, and Jonathan. The only exception is one group of young women across the way that keep glancing at the trio before furtively whispering to each other.

Compared to some of his past birthday parties, his seventeenth is relatively tame. It doesn't have the bounce-house maze of his thirteenth (Robin's idea) or the full-fledged film studio complete with hair, makeup, and a director for guests to pretend they're movie stars of his fourteenth (Erica's idea) or the literal forest of photo shoot locations of his fifteenth (Jonathan's idea) or the battle bot creation station and ring of his sixteenth (Dustin's idea).

This year, he just requested a normal ball. No gimmicks. No special events or entertainers. It had resulted in whining and complaining from Robin, Dustin, and Erica, but Steve figured they'd calm down after stuffing themselves with cake.

As he's smiling politely at a girl whose eyes he happened to meet, the opening notes of a Genovian Waltz flow through the ballroom. Steve glances to his grandmother, watching as she takes Joe's hand to be led onto the dance floor. He then looks at Robin, offering a hand to her and grinning when she scowls at it. "Only if I get to lead this time," she says.

"Sure," Steve says, turning his hand over to place it in Robin's. He waves at Jonathan as she walks him onto the dance floor, turns around, and places a hand on his waist. As she leads him through the first steps of the waltz, Steve glances at the crowd around them before quietly saying, "I need to tell you something."

"Oh, are you finally sharing what you and Her Majesty have been having your little meetings about?"

Steve rolls his eyes, smiling a bit as he squeezes Robin's hand. "You're the first person I'm telling, if that helps."

She sniffs, glancing away and apparently meeting a cute girl's gaze since she winks before looking at Steve again. "Barely," she says, guiding Steve to duck under her arm in a spin. "Go ahead, though."

"Grandmother has given me permission to attend school in America for my senior year."

Robin blinks, nearly tripping over her own feet. Luckily, Steve catches her, briefly taking the lead so the mistake isn't noticed until she's stable again. "Seriously?" she asks, lowering her voice a little more. "So, what, California? New York? Please say we're going somewhere with a beach."

Steve's smile becomes apologetic as he says, "No, actually...Hawkins. I wanted to attend school in Hawkins."

The only thing that keeps him from faltering when Robin purposefully steps on his foot as hard as she can is all the practice he has from her accidentally stepping on his foot as hard as she can. He sighs as she glares at him and hisses, "Are you stupid? Seriously?! This is dumber than the time you kissed Jonathan."

"Rude. It's not dumber than the time you and I tried kissing?"

"No, because at least you being attracted to how awesome I am made sense."

"I suddenly feel sorry for Jonathan."

Robin rolls her eyes and pinches Steve's waist. "Seriously, why are you going back to Hawkins? That place sucks. You hate it."

"No, I hate my parents. I don't hate Hawkins. I just...want to see if it's changed, I guess. I want to see what the town is like now that I'm, you know, happy," Steve explains, watching Robin closely for her reaction. When she doesn't agree after a few seconds, he sighs and adds, "You don't have to come, Robin."

"Of course, I'm coming, Dingus. You can't get rid of me that easily. Besides, I'm your personal guard. I literally get paid to personally guard you."

"Good," Steve says, "It wouldn't be fun without you. Everyone else is coming, too. Well, except for Grandmother, but she promised to visit when she could."

"Wait, does this mean I have to go to school, too? Like, seriously?"

"Yeah. And Jonathan. And the kids. We have to at least try to blend in," Steve says, grinning at the devastated expression of Robin's face. If he'd gone to a private school, she probably could've gotten away with just being his personal guard, but a public school means actually blending in.

"The things I do for you," she mutters as the song comes to an end. She and Steve take a step back from each other and bow as the guests politely clap around them.

Before Steve can say anything, a warm hand rests on his shoulder. He looks over to see Clarisse, smiles brightly, and offers his hand to her. "Can I have your next dance, Grandmother?" he asks.

A now-familiar happiness settles in his stomach when she agrees, placing her hand in his. Steve basks in it, absolutely certain he'll have no problems in Hawkins so long as he remembers this feeling.

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Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added to future parts!)

@y4r3luv, @potato-of-the-lord, @lublix, @little-birch-boy, @eriquin, @whenindoubtb72

#stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #princess diaries crossover #queen clarisse renaldi #modern royalty au #platonic stobin #future steddie #robin buckley #jonathan byers #my writing #steve deserves good parents actually #i'm a simple woman #i drop lore about steve and jonathan kissing one (1) time #and then never follow up hfjdsk #steddie is gonna be in the next one bois!

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