Chapter One: Honor
Dragon King!bakugou katsuki x reader
Rating: Mature
Tags: violence, blood, dragons, its wartime babes so people might get booboos, romance, sexual tension, medieval politics, northern!reader, knight!midoriya
Summary: With the fury of winter on the precipice, and food provisions deathly short, you have no choice but to represent your House and speak with the Dragon King. The only problem is your Houses have been at odds for centuries, and the fearsome Dragon King is not exactly easy to convince... (GoT-inspired AU)
Chapter: 3/? (20,590 words)
AO3 Link
Chapter Two
Chapter One: Honor (3.6k)
Crisp cold air stung your cheeks, moving along to whip through your hair as you gaze at the land ahead. Hills of green grass blew with the breeze, carrying the scent of earth as you’re met with nothing but gray beyond it. Gray, only growing darker as it continues to bring forth the ever-growing chill that bites your nose and shivers down your bones.
Winter is coming.
Winter is coming, and you won’t have enough food for it. For the first time in history, the cruelty of the North is crushing your home. Walls of misfortune are slowly crumbling in, and the only thing left holding them up is loyalty.
Starvation, surely, would be the breaking point.
Worst of all, your little brother is sick again. The oncoming chill hasn’t been kind to him, and as you gaze out of the tower, worrying what to do next, he lies helplessly in bed, mumbling from nightmares only a fever could bring.
Your mother was barely holding it together after the passing of your father, but now that her youngest child is sick, she has been inconsolable. Keeping the curtains drawn, refusing to leave your little brother’s room, refusing to listen to you, refusing to do anything at all.
“By all the gods, just leave me be, child! Just let your lord brother handle it! I can't…”
But there’s been no word from your older brother, the now-reigning Lord of the North. He’s supposedly on his way back from the war, trudging through mud and snow to get back home, but you don’t know when, and you couldn’t afford to wait.
Something had to be done. Now.
And as you stood at the tower, high above everyone, you decided to close your eyes, focus on the sound of the wind, and think.
Allies were slim, all thanks to the fruitless war your father started. The other noble families of the North have abandoned you. Multiple ravens sent to the East came back with no response, and you certainly can’t go to the West, the very people you went to war with.
That left the South.
It’s the logical choice. But, gods. The South. You could hear the men of your House now.
The South?! They, who broke their own promise to us centuries ago. They, who sit upon their thrones as if they were forged by the gods themselves and not by men. Nothernmen! They use our people for their own desire for glory, and what do we get?! Nothing.
Through the whistle of the wind you could hear the trees swaying in the nearby woods…
What do they know of honor?
Honor is worth nothing without people to defend it.
So you called a meeting, requesting to go South and speak with the Dragon King.
And like you knew they would, they asked the very question…
What do they know of honor?
Nothing, my lords. But I know everything about it.
Convincing them to put trust in you wasn’t easy, but you reminded them of the oath they made to your bloodline, and they folded.
Unlike others, northerners were true to their word.
You later returned to the tower for your final goodbye, closing your eyes to tune out the bustle of people down below. You focused on the wind, on the sound of the forest, trees rustling like a whisper…
But you heard nothing.
The fastest way was by ship and, having never been on one before, you quickly found out the sea-life wasn’t for you. After reaching open water, it wasn’t long before your stomach started mirroring the motion of the ship, dipping down and then up again while the stinging stench of salt attacked your sinuses, all resulting in you hurling your breakfast into the sea. The sun, which was once calm and gentle in the North, was now beaming down on you with hatred, causing you to sweat profusely. You had to forgo several layers of clothing, which in return, left you feeling completely exposed, even with the reassurance that you were still appropriate by southern standards.
You practically rejoiced when you finally reached the harbor, simply happy to be on solid ground again. But your relief soured when you found that what awaited you was not a horse, but a carriage.
“It was recommended, m’lady. For your protection,” Ser Midoriya told you, squeamish at your obvious annoyance.
Another controversial decision made by your father. Not only did Young Midoriya not have any battle experience, but he was southern (“And as yellow-bellied as one,” you heard some guards say once). And yet, your father took the liberty of knighting him, even going so far as naming him your sworn protector.
You quickly found out that, despite his lack of grit, the now-Ser Midoriya took his oath seriously, panicking anytime you showed any sort of reckless behavior. A highly stressful situation for him, as that seems to be all you ever do.
“It’s alright, ser. I’ll make do,” you assured him.
It would do no good to stress out your knight now, not when there were more important things on task for today.
But your motion sickness returned once you were boxed in the death trap, with every small bump controlling your stomach like a puppeteer, helpless to its command. It took all of your willpower not to throw up again, if only because there were people in the streets and you didn’t wish to make more of a scene.
It didn’t help that Ser Midoriya kept voicing his concern throughout the entire ride.
“Uh, m’lady. You should-”
“Not now, ser knight,” you groaned, desperately sticking your head out the window for air, people be damned.
“But m’lady-”
“Not now!” you snapped at him, the feeling of nauseousness fully overupting your patience. You knew it was wrong to snap, that Ser Midoriya was only trying to help, but as of right now you couldn’t care less. You’ll apologize to him afterwards, when your stomach wasn’t trying to leave your body.
By the time you reached the gates, your hair was wild from the wind, and you still reeked of the sea. Your main thought was that you hoped you had time for a bath before meeting the King.
Then you stepped out, and once your feet touched the ground your nose was hit with the sudden smell of smoke. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, less so than the smell of the sea at least, and having huddled close to the fireplace many times in your youth, it somehow brought you a sense of remembrance.
And for the very first time since leaving the North, you felt a sense of ease.
But then a screech pierced the air, interrupting it. The sky grew black as a giant gust of wind hit your back, whooshing your hair forward and blinding you. You felt Ser Midoriya drape over you in protection. He cried something in your ear, but you couldn’t quite hear it through the rush of the wind. Once you felt the sun reappear, you blinked your eyes open and looked up.
By the gods…
A dragon, gliding up in the air with such, powerful ease. Its scales glistened in the sun with such a multitude of colors- you couldn’t tell if it was red, blue, green, or black. But you could see the shape of the wings and the curve of the tail, bolting through the sky in a speed you didn’t know was possible…
“Are you alright, m'lady?” Ser Midoriya asked you, shaking, as if the dragon was going to swing back around and eat you all.
You continued to stare after it in a strange sort of stupor. Knowing you had to put up a front for your men, you gulped down your amazement (and fear) and were able to let out a small, “uh huh…”
You knew there would be dragons, of course. In all the books ever written about the South, every single one of them mentioned the dragons. But obviously there was a vast difference between seeing one in a drawing and seeing the actual thing.
A dangerously vast difference.
“Shall we begin, m'lady?” You looked at your knight, then followed his gaze forward.
Of all the gods…
The Bridge of Han’ei. You’ve read about this as well. Made out of impenetrable blackstone, melted with dragon fire and further crafted by northern stonemasons. Your people
This was your history just as much as the Dragon King’s, and that fact angered you. In all of your studies of the South, never once did you find any mention of your people. Decades of building weapons, castles, bridges- this city, and for what?
A broken oath. Dishonorable.
It was your people that put in the work. It was with the blood and sweat of the North that went into this bridge. But because the southerners have dragons, they’re the ones history remembers…
You took a step onto the bridge, placing a hand on top of the ledge. Despite its smooth looking appearance, the blackstone felt coarse and rough, tickling your palm as you brushed against it. It was also frighteningly warm, probably from the centuries it spent out in the sunlight. You welcomed the heat regardless, marveling at the beauty of it all. You could catch the subtleties of northern craftsmanship- the style of the bridge itself, the precision of its design.
The South may not be able to see it, but you certainly do.
And with that in mind, you began your march towards the castle.
*****
In reality it was a long walk, but you made it feel quick. Ignoring your knight’s plea to slow down, to wait for him, you strode ahead, staring at nothing but the castle gate as it grew closer and closer. You could hear the deafening screech of dragons above you, but your fear was gone. If they wanted to kill you, they would’ve done it by now.
You spotted the guards on the gatehouse away, scurrying about like ants. When you approached, the two stationed at the entrance stood tall, spears pointing at you with a, “Halt! Who goes there?”
You give them your name, stating that you wanted an audience with the King.
“Eh? The Lady of Kokorishi?” The guard on the left looked over to the one on the right. “Where’s that?”
“In the West, I think?”
You could slap someone.
You opened your mouth to speak, but Ser Midoriya raced up next to you, gasping for air.
“May I introduce… the Lady of Kokorishi… R-Ruling House of the North,” he wheezed out. “We’ve requested an audience with the King.”
Your poor knight. The walk on the bridge must have been torturous with the weight of his armor. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to walk ahead…
“My lady!” A man, who you assumed to be one the King’s advisors, approached, carefully placing himself in between the two guards before you. “I hope you had a peaceful journey.”
“The winds weren’t kind,” you said with a sour expression, the rest of your party now reaching the end of the drawbridge.
“Ah, apologies for the difference in weather. You’re probably not used to all the sun, being up North and all.“ The advisor shot you a smile. "But at least the dragons were a sight to see!”
A fly began to dance around his spiky yellow hair, and you took the time to grumble sarcastically while he swatted at it. “Oh, they certainly were…”
“Well, on behalf of the King, welcome to Tochiryuu!” The advisor bowed. “Denki Kaminari of the Arashi Mountains. I will show you to court, where the King is waiting.” Kaminari went to turn around.
“Uh, would it be possible to freshen up before I meet the King?” you asked. “As I’ve mentioned, the journey was long.”
Kaminari winced sheepishly. “Unfortunately, the King doesn’t have the time. Running a newly independent kingdom has him very busy. He hopes you understand…”
You knew it was unintentional, but you still felt a sting at the comment, remembering your own House’s war.
You simply sighed and nodded. No use arguing.
“By the way, you, ser knight, look familiar.” Kaminari pointed at Midoriya. “Have we met before?”
“O-Oh, u-h…” New bolts of sweat ran down Midoriya’s head. He scratched his head nervously.
“My knight is actually from the South,” you provided, completely oblivious to Ser Midoriya’s small urges to quit talking. “Perhaps you’ve seen his face before.”
“I know I have. I just can’t remember where…” Kaminari scratched his chin thoughtfully, studying Ser Midoriya’s face. “Have you ever participated in one of our tournaments before?”
Midoriya choked, bolts of sweat raining down his forehead as he rambled his words.“You’reprobablythinkingaboutthatonetourneytwoyearsbackbutthatwassolongago-”
“The tourney!” Lord Kaminari snapped his fingers. “Right! You fell off your horse before the jousting even began.”
Ser Midoriya’s face turned beet red.
“Hah! Oh, the King was so angry. I thought he was going to explode.” Kaminari laughed at the memory, wiping a tear from his eye. He went to turn but froze. “Oh! I would recommend maybe hiding in the back, ser. The King still complains about that, even to this day…”
When Kaminari looked away, you glared at your knight furiously.
“I-I tried to tell you, m’lady!” he whispered. “On the carriage ride. But you wouldn’t listen…”
The realization hit you like a brick. So that was what he was trying to say. Great. Another obstacle to face when talking to the King.
You glanced back towards your knight, who was currently downcasting his head in shame, and you could tell he was on the verge of tears.
You sighed, feeling your anger deflate at the sight. This was nobody’s fault. Certainly not Ser Midoriya’s, who was only trying his best.
You patted his shoulder. “Ease up, my knight. There’s still so much to do.”
Ser Midoriya sniffed back his tears, wiping the ones that already fell with the back of his hand. He looked ahead with determination. “Right.”
You followed Kaminari behind the castle gates. Once you were inside, the air became stuffy, the sharp smell of smoke from outside sweetened with candles and incense. Wordlessly maneuvering around courtiers, soldiers, and servants, you snuck a glance around, surprised to see that while the Bridge of Han’ei was entirely made out of blackstone, there was a severe lack of it inside the castle.
It made you smirk. Even with all the tools, the southerners still lacked the craftsmanship needed to forge it.
“And here we are!” Kaminari finally stopped. You were now in front of two large wooden doors, both carved with beautiful images of dragons breathing fire, their eyes piercing into you like at any moment they could come to life.
Beyond them must be the Great Hall.
“Once the doors open, you’re free to enter and state your plea to the King.”
“My plea?” you questioned. “You make it sound as if you want me to beg.”
“Well, wouldn’t hurt your cause, especially with His Grace.” Kaminari shrugged, then pounded on the door, the sound of it echoing off of the wood. They swung open, the breeze urging you to enter. And you did, taking one solid step into the great room.
Beams of light leaked in from the sides, their source coming from windows that punctured the walls. Specks of dust danced within them, eventually leading down to the cracks of stone on the floor. Perhaps the King didn’t have time for upkeep during the war?
But the main part of the Great Hall remained dim, growing darker and darker the farther it went down, to the point where the end was completely engulfed in shadow. You caught a glimpse of light from within that shadow, a shine bouncing off of any random light that reached it.
“What do you want?” The darkness boomed, filled with anger and impatience.
You could hear your knight’s armor rattle softly next to you.
“Your Grace!” Kaminari stepped forward, gesturing towards you. “May I present-”
“I know who she is!” it snapped. “What does she want?”
The question echoed across the room, followed by silence…
Kaminari arched an eyebrow at you, waiting.
Oh. Now?
You took a couple steps forward. When you squinted, you could make out the outline of a throne…
“Your Grace,” you began, still trying to see within the shadow, “if you know who I am, then you know I come from the Ruling House of the North and that winter is coming. The fallout of the war has left our provisions dangerously short-”
“And whose fault is that?” the dark grumbled before letting out a scoff. “Some House. Didn’t even think to call on me to help fight. Not even after I won my war against the West.”
Embarrassment crept up the back of your neck, flaring your cheeks. You remember bringing up the idea once, only to be immediately shut down by your father. “The North are a very proud folk-”
A snort interrupted you.
“-who don’t quite forget history as easily as you do,” you snapped.
“I remember our history, Lady!” the dark yelled.
“Well, perhaps I should remind you anyway,” you seethed, walking forward, “because it seems like you’re missing some things.”
You stopped, now able to see a hand draped over an armrest, decorated with golden rings. You looked over to the other one to find it grasping onto the handle of a sword, its blade large enough to decapitate with one swipe. But before you could falter at such a sight, you saw it shine, and realized the sword was the source of light you saw earlier. And when it twinkled again, you knew exactly what it was made of. Which sword that was.
You continued. “Missing things… like how northernmen are responsible for the Bridge, or for that sword in your hand…”
You saw the grip on the sword tighten, and you knew your words had taken effect.
“Centuries ago, our people were at peace, and in result some of the greatest creations were made…” You took a couple more steps, now catching the color red, covering what appeared to be the torso. A cape.
Your eyes lingered up. The hair you could also see, blonde and untamed. The face was still in shadow though, and you could see nothing of it. But you could feel him looking at you, his aura growing the closer you got.
It was strong, intimidating.
Powerful.
You gulped down the lump in your throat and carried on. “For whatever reason, your House broke the promise it made to mine. And ever since then, the North has been overshadowed by the glamor and prowess your people pretend to have.”
“We don’t pretend to have anything!” The vibrance in the voice was lost now that you were closer. You could hear the roughness of it, the fury behind it. “We’ve earned everything we have, same as you! I’d like to see your people try to tame a dragon.”
“Fair enough,” you conceded. “Regardless, my people were smart enough to keep their secrets of craftsmanship amongst themselves. The South hasn’t been able to forge blackstone ever since.” You looked back towards the throne, now seeing that it was also made out of blackstone, but it was bulky and uneven, a complete opposite of the Bridge.
“Without lack of trying,” you said pointedly, and you could see the King bristle at your words. “Help the North survive winter, and we will provide our services again. You could have a proper throne, one for your new reign.”
The King huffed. “And how do I know you won’t go back on your word once winter is over?”
You scoffed, glaring into the shadow of the King. “You know nothing of the North.”
That made him stand, the King now towering over you as he stepped down, entering into the light. Step by step, all was revealed; brown boots, covered in dirt and soot. The ends of a cape, smeared just the same, but clean going up, revealing its blood red color. The torso, fit from years of combat and also bare, with tattoos of blue and red inked onto the muscles. And then the face, handsome and stoic as a king’s should be, but with crimson eyes that made your heart pound as they stared back at you.
The aura you previously felt, the one tamed by shadow, was now in full force, its source coming from the eyes.
He continued to march over to you, and all you could do was hear the pounding of your heart as he drew near. Unable to speak. Unable to think. All you could do was take in the fury behind those eyes and let them absorb you, until all you could see was them.
“I know plenty,” he growled, finally breaking the silence. You were too busy staring back at the crimson to respond.
And then a cough coming from the background pulled it away.
“Hey!” the King suddenly barked. “Didn’t I banish you?!”
Spell broken, you looked behind you, seeing Ser Midoriya shakingly hold up a finger as he said, “Actually, Your Grace. I’m here with the Lady…”
The King sneered, glaring at Midoriya’s armor. “Your House truly is stupid. Who in their right mind would knight him?”
He turned away, and you felt cold, despite the sweltering heat in the Great Hall. The King began to march back to his throne. “Kaminari will show you to your rooms. You can eat, bathe- gods know you need it.”
Embarrassment creeped up again, and you turned around before the King could see it. You began to walk back, but faltered halfway. There was still so much you wanted to say, and now with your back turned, you had the confidence to say it. Looking back over your shoulder, you said,
“If you’re not willing to fix the sins of your House, by either honor or duty, then you have no right to call yourself a man, let alone a king.”
And before your courage could leave you, you walked out, without looking back, leaving the King speechless.