Funny how a name could be everything and yet nothing at the same time.
You never dwelled on it before until you woke up one day, your soulmate's name inked neatly on your collarbone.
Jay
Pretty, yet plain.
Bold, yet mysterious.
Jay could be anyone. You could see them being whimsical and flirty. Or maybe strong and confident.
Either way, you wore the tattoo proudly, content just to know that there's someone out there for you.
And then you woke up burning.
And as you cried from the pain, you pinpointed the source to be your tattoo, its edges sizzling like acid, fizzing into the center until your entire mark was scorched. Scared. Unreadable.
And suddenly there was no longer a reason to question a name. No reason to lie at night, dreaming about what could be. What could've been.
Now the only question you ask is why.
Why?
The thought moved with the sun, rising to begin the day and setting to end with it, sometimes followed by the shadow of the name that was once sketched beautifully on you. It was painful to think about it, that name. Everytime you tried, the burn came back, as fresh as the night you first felt it.
And somehow in-between the burns you managed to carry on with life. Going through the motions as best as you could with that scar on you. Not everything was lost, after all. There were plenty of people that live life never having a soulmate.
And one day (one that was actually going well in beginning, thanks), you find yourself in the middle of a bank robbery, holding your hands up in surrender, wondering if this was how it was going to end.
He came in with a crash, bringing chaos, a motorcycle, and deathly precision. He was cocky and rude during the action, but quiet and shy afterwards, moving to leave with nothing but a small nod, his face hidden by that red helmet.
But even with helmet you could feel his eyes pierce into yours, the burn sizzling your mark once again. The pain used to make you cry, but now it made you smile, as you realize that burn wasn't your soulmate dying. It's them living.
Surviving.
"Thanks, Jay," you whisper in the air, feeling the two ends link together, finally connected.
Red Hood, in the process of mounting his bike, froze. He could feel it too, as he looked back at you, two words racing up to respond to yours,
Summary: You struggle to come up with the perfect gift for Keigo...
xmas fic exchange for @lou-struck!
word count: 2k
All I Want
He hated flying in the snow. Keigo never said it, but you could tell.
He would walk through the door and the first thing you noticed was his wings, slumped down with fatigue, feathers falling out everywhere. And even then, Hawks seemed to not care. He would just step inside with a hidden smile.
It was small, but there was more feeling in it than any other smile he's ever had on patrol. You could see it lying underneath; soft, calm, almost vulnerable, now that you think about it.
You told yourself, He's just happy to be inside.
Selfishly, you liked to believe you're the only one who's seen it; the subtle glow of light that waves through Keigo's face when he takes that first step in.
You know it's a fantasy, but you've long decided that it didn't matter anyway. The smile alone was enough, and you would do anything to keep seeing it.
But then your eyes would travel to the dark circles under his eyes. Then to his hair, wild and damp, sprinkled with snow. Then finally, the wings, with the lower feathers dragging on the floor, the upper half ruffled from the cold.
It was enough to break your heart. Especially when you knew Keigo didn't need to be here.
So you tried to make it as easy as possible for him. You always had towels folded neatly by the door. You added more blankets to drape over the couch. You started plating cookies on a regular basis, and you even started making hot cocoa around the time Keigo always showed up.
And despite the teasing persistence of your friends, you honestly weren't trying to win him over or anything. You really just wanted him to do nothing. Nothing but eat, drink, and relax. Breathe.
You had a feeling Keigo was catching onto you, but he didn't say anything, at least not yet. He would act cheerfully sly, play along with your game, and when you peeked a glance at him, you would catch it- the smile again, full and unhindered.
You told Keigo to take it easy, to take more breaks in between patrols. You even told him he didn't have to visit so much, if need be. He could just go to his own place after work. You would understand.
But he didn’t listen. Instead, Keigo just pinched your cheek affectionately.
Don't worry about me, little bird. I'm doing just fine.
And of course, that only made you more stubborn to make things easier for him.
One particular night, you noticed his wings were particularly droopier than usual, and so you suggested using a blow dryer on them.
And oh, how that will live in your brain.
Keigo, sighing and melting against you, as his feathers ruffled with bliss, absolutely entranced by the hot hair breezing through his wings.
And even though the sheer memory had you fluttering into little pieces, you told yourself, it's nothing.
You would go to do simple things; toss him a blanket, grab him a mug, a cookie. And through the actions, you found yourself begging again, Take a break. Just one day off.
And Keigo would pat your head, telling you again.
It's the job, chickadee. I'm fine.
Just the curse of being Number Two.
But then, again, you would see the self-sacrifice harboring within him. The lines of exhaustion etched onto his face as Keigo passed out on the couch, too tired to wake up.
Your decision was made as you threw the blanket over him, his feathers fluttering slightly as you did so.
You were getting him something for the holidays. Something just for him, dammit.
You asked Keigo about it once, and of course, he just smiled, saying your company more than enough…
Fuck! How was that supposed to help you?!
You guess you could try something for the cold; a scarf, a hat, a jacket… but then, Keigo had more than enough of that stuff from his agency. Maybe there was something you could buy for his wings?
You tried searching on the internet but of course, everything you found would just affect his flying. There was nothing you could get that would help him. And then again, if there really was something, wouldn't the agency have come up with it already?
You could try getting his favorite coffee or candy. That would be a safe bet, but… you wanted something sentimental. He's Hawks, the Winged Hero, dammit. What the hell could you give him that he didn't already have?
Diving into your regular holiday rituals of decorating and baking, you pondered over it helplessly, until you got to the point where you were absolutely, completely and utterly, stumped. Brain dead.
You couldn't think of anything.
Getting your home ready for the holidays suddenly felt sour. You finally had someone to share it with, and you couldn't even think of anything to get him. All you could do was just, be there, bumbling around like an idiot while Keigo-
"Ack!" you screamed, cut out from your own mumbling thoughts as Keigo perched in front of your window, scaring the shit out of you.
He smiled at you and waved.
You huffed, grumpily taking off your apron before going to meet him at the door.
And yet, you still found yourself smiling when opening the door.
"Hey."
"Hey!" he called back joyfully.
And again, that smile was almost enough to brighten your mood. You felt yourself start to relax, sink into the fact that Keigo was here again.
But then you caught the mischievous look in his eye.
"What?" you asked suspiciously, crossing your arms.
But Keigo just moved around you, heading into the kitchen for cookies. His wings were tucked securely behind him, shielding his back, the bottom feathers dragging on the floor.
You sighed defeatedly and followed, heading into the kitchen to find Keigo already polishing off a cookie.
His one arm was precariously hidden behind his back.
You leaned against the wall. "So… whatcha got there?"
"Oh, nothing much," Keigo told you with a mouth full of cookie, crumbs falling down the corners of his mouth.
And then he set that stupid smile on you again, making your stomach flip with excitement but also churn with dread.
Keigo got you a gift.
And you had nothing for him.
Fuuuuuuck, you could facepalm yourself right now.
"Keigo, listen-" you sighed, deciding to confess it now before the real embarrassment began, "- you really don't have to get me anything. Really. I couldn't even get anything for you!"
"But I already bought it!" he defended, holding up the box for you. It was small, fitting easily into the palm of his hand, wrapped prettily in shiny red paper- as red as his wings, you noted- and tied together with a glittery gold bow.
It was way too small to be something like a candle, or a new set of kitchen utensils, or anything else you would freely accept as a gift.
No, you thought, feeling your stomach drop.
It's jewelry.
"Really, Keigo. You don't have to. It's too much," you told him, shooing away the gift.
"You haven't even seen it yet. At least open it first," Keigo reasoned, charming his way in. "I did wrap it myself, you know…"
And even though he appeared cocky, the look in his eyes was so pleading, you found breaking. You hesitated.
"Okay," you finally sighed, holding out your hand for the gift.
Keigo looked so proud of himself as he gave you the box, but all you could do was catch the sad sight of his feathers again, now noticing that he was missing quite a few. There were also some tears in his jacket…
"Do you want to change first?" you offered. "I'm sure it was a long patrol. Don't you-"
"You're not getting out of this, little bird," Keigo told you affectionately, but there was also a tone of finality behind it. He was putting his foot down.
You unwrapped the gift, eyes still warily glued to the wings. Then you felt the velvet box in your hand, it's smooth surface prompting you to admire it for a moment before opening it cautiously.
You were pleasantly surprised to see it was a necklace, the slim gold chain swooping down to reveal a small pendant of a songbird, small and reflective, matching its link effortlessly. And, you had to admit, the bird looked cute, with its tiny little body in mid-flight.
"Thank you. I love it," you honestly told him, relieved to see that it wasn't some extravagant, overly expensive piece infused with diamonds or whatever. You really did love it. You could imagine yourself wearing it everyday, actually.
"Here." Keigo gently took the box from you, watching with amusement as your smile naturally grew across your face. He worked through the paper and ties holding the necklace together and held it out for you when it was finally free, motioning for you to turn around.
You followed, feeling the cool metal drape around your collarbone, Keigo's fingers brushing the back of your neck lightly.
You turned back around, but he stayed in place, still close to you as he admired his gift proudly, cautiously adjusting it so that the bird rested on the center of your chest. As he did so, you caught the warmth radiating from in eyes, even though the rest of him was cold. You knew. You could feel it. But Keigo didn't show it nor did he care, his eyes staying on you dearly. Lovingly.
And you couldn't even get him anything. You're such a terrible friend.
"Aw, crap," you cried, guilt instantly crushing you. You turned away from him.
"Hey, hey, hey! What's wrong, little bird?" Keigo asked, panicked yet gentle as he moved to grab your shoulder, getting you to look back at him. He huffed softly in amusement. "Is it really that bad?"
You shook your head, eyes stinging slightly with tears. "I really couldn't get you anything. I'm so sorry, Keigo."
"C'mon now," he crooned, tucking your head into his chest as he trapped you in a hug. You had a feeling if his wings weren't in the state they were in, he would hold them up around you, securing you in him. "It's alright, little bird. Really. It's a gift just to come home with you."
"Home?" you asked timidly, muffled by the hold he had on you. Keiho loosened his grip so you could look up at him. You suddenly felt shy, hearing the word.
He really didn't mean that, did he?
"Yeah, home." Keigo smiled fully, tightening his arms back around you. "More so than my place anyway."
And the almost sad, almost pained strain on his face made you realize, Keigo wasn't just coming over for company. He actually felt at peace here, with you. It was what you wanted all along. And now that you actually had it, it all suddenly became clear.
You moved out of his grasp to go to a nearby drawer. You opened and rummaged through it for a moment before you found it.
And there it was
You held it out for him to see, your own proudful smile gracing your features.
A key, shiny and silver. A perfect opposite to your necklace.
"Since you like it here so much," you joked shyly, carefully placing the key into his palm.
And the secret look of happiness Keigo always wore suddenly magnified. It was warm. Real. No longer was the cool facade of Hawks there. Right now, you were just seeing Keigo. One hundred percent.
The smile you were fighting for.
You don't know who moved first, but suddenly you're wrapped up in Keigo. You, holding onto the lapels of his jacket, and him, wrapping his arms around your lower back. The both of you felt your lips clash together desperately, deeply, the both of you finally expressing all of your worry and needing and love into this one final move.
It was a dream come true for you.
Eventually, you both broke away, almost timidly, but you still remained close, foreheads touching as Keigo smiled down at you and you up at him.
'Thank you for the present, little bird," he murmured to you.
"No problem," you joked quietly before moving to kiss him again. "Welcome home."
He could tell when the mark appeared. It came as a small tickle, faint, like the tip of a feather, looping across his wrist in what he could tell was cursive. And even after that tickling feeling was gone he could feel the bumps, the smooth outline on his skin that announced your name.
Except, he couldn't actually see it.
He could feel it, definitely, enough to pick out a letter here and there, to the point where he had a pretty good idea, but without anyone to confirm it with, he was, for lack of a better saying, in the dark.
As much as he'd confessed to Father Lantom it still somehow felt awkward to ask him, and Matt certainly wasn't going to ask any of the sisters. No, that would be just a bit too embarrassing. And he didn't have any friends he could ask, so you remained a mystery, hidden, until one day he could gather the courage to ask.
And eventually he did, to Foggy, after it became clear that they were going to be best friends for as long as time allowed them to be.
Foggy said it with a laugh, finding it funny that Matt never asked anyone till then. Matt told him that he wasn't sure if the person would lie or not, pulling a sick prank on him while Matt lived the rest of his life waiting for the wrong person.
It was really because sometimes, when the darkness hits, and the devil comes out, and there's blood dripping from his knuckles that he thinks- he doesn't deserve to have a soulmate. To have you.
And perhaps it was because of this hidden shame that he tried to hide your name as much as possible, keeping you a shared secret between him and Foggy.
When Elektra came into the picture she found out immediately, slyly grabbing his wrist when he wasn't expecting, too much sensory in the room to expect it, and she pulled back his sleeve.
She said your name like a joke. One she liked to tell to Matt over and over again. He could imagine her face scrunch up, as if the thought of you brought the smell of garbage. Something to be thrown out.
But Matt could hear her heart, hear the odd thump as she ruined your name. She was heartbroken.
And maybe because she was so heartbroken, Matt only told her half-heartedly to stop.
Later on, when him and Foggy opened their own agency, and he became close enough with Karen to tell her, Matt thought- maybe he could have you.
But then the devil would possess him, making him the number one target in all of Hell's Kitchen, and the thought was squashed quickly.
Before, he hid you out of mercy. Now he did it out of protection. It was safer for you to be kept in the dark, and maybe that's how it was always meant to be. You were a secret, a symbol of trust between a small group of friends. Matt was fine with that, and he had a feeling if you knew who he was, you would be too.
Then one day, you walked into Nelson & Murdock, asking for a lawyer. You introduced yourself.
Foggy dropped his pen. Karen just stood there, too shocked to do anything else, but delighted nonetheless.
Foggy continued to react for him, stutteringly asking you to repeat yourself.
You did confusingly.
Confusion, that only grew as Foggy carried on the conversation, saying, "Of course we can help you! Here, let me take your coat. Have a seat. Stay a while!"
And Karen chimed in, going, "Would you like a cup of coffee? Tea? A muffin?"
And when he felt your gaze on him, lighting his soul on fire, all Matt could do was stand there, thinking...
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)
Some translations for this chapter: *Dragons: Kanibaru = Cannibal, Kinba = Gold Tooth, Shiroi Tsubasa = White Wing. *Commands (taken directly from GoT): Dracarys = Dragon fire, Rybas = Focus, Naejot = Forward, Dohaeras = Serve, Umbas = Wait
Chapter Three: Blood of the Dragon (12.4k)
Darkness…
An echoing song…
Can't breathe…
You woke up gasping for air, only to be greeted by the sun shining its inferno through the lazy breeze of the curtains that guarded you. The silk sheets wrapped around you slipped across your skin like water as you entered into the morn, nightmare temporarily forgotten.
How useless, you thought suddenly. What’s the point of a blanket if not to keep you warm?
You roughly kicked the sheets off you, finding them to be a total hindrance. But then as soon as you did it, you felt strange. Almost vulnerable in a way, not unlike when you were on the boat, abandoning your extra layers of clothing.
You’ve been guarding yourself against the outside for as long as you could remember. To meet it head-on, bare skin to sun, it felt like you were heading into battle with nothing but a horse.
And how the southern heat seemed to target you, causing you to sweat constantly . You were always fighting off against the gross feeling as your body struggled to adjust to the new land.
You missed the cold air of the North, the smell of the grass, the sound of your little brother’s laugh. You missed the peace of the whispering woods, the roars of laughter in the Hall, the secluded comfort of the library. You missed home.
And yet, The Dragon King insisted you stay.
“Until we both see fit," he had said.
Well, you saw fit to leave once the agreement was signed. That seemed to be the sensible thing to do. Your business would be done, so why stay?
And what was taking the contract so long? Surely, it must be done by now…
"We're gonna do it right this time… We reform our relationship, and in return, our alliance…"
Reform our relationship…
Something about that itched your mind, like the tune of a song you couldn't quite remember. Like any other trueborn of the North, the history of the Great Blacksmith has been engraved into your head. The tale of him and the Dragon Queen is very much a repeated one, back at home at least. But you imagined it would be popular in the Southlands too…
Does the King mean to…
No. Of course not.
You take a deep breath in, smelling the sweet smoke that was slowly beginning to waft into the room.
“To cover the smell of dragon,” Lady Mina explained to you.
Apparently, the dragon caves weren’t far from the city, and the wind tended to drift the stench over. You smelled it more than a couple of times now; fire, soot, and something else you couldn’t place. The best way you could describe it was wet dog , and yet you knew that wasn’t right. Either way, it wasn’t exactly offensive, not when you’ve spent your entire childhood around livestock. Besides, you thought the incense more than did its job. Whether it was the soft floral scents of jasmine, sweet pea, and lilac or one of the stronger, spicier scents of cinnamon, clove, and frankincense- they all seemed to give you a jolt of energy, giving you the muster to start the day.
And already there was Lady Mina, ready to start with you as she walked across the other side of the room, lighting the perfumed sticks as she went, soft tendrils of smoke marking her path like footsteps.
“Morning, Lady Mina,” you greeted, ignoring your slight unease.
You almost forgot that it was normal, a lady’s maid waking you up, helping you get ready for the day. And as more servant ladies walked in with clean linens, fresh tea, and food, you found your stubbornness winning over.
“You know, I’m perfectly capable of getting ready on my own-”
Lady Mina easily countered with a wave of her hand. “Nonsense! You're our guest . Besides, you brought no maids of your own.”
She shrugged nonchalantly, as if it weren't a problem, but you still found yourself squirming with embarrassment. Was it considered unethical, not bringing any maids with you? It’s not like you had a choice. The outlook of the war forced your lady mother to dismiss them all.
"Knights and guards must be placed over butlers and maids, sweetling. Can’t you see?"
And for a tiny moment, an arrow of sorrow punctured your chest as you remembered your goodbye to Jirou, your lady-in-waiting and best friend. The sad look in her eyes as you told her to pack up her things and go home…
A breakfast tray interrupted your memory, pulling the arrow along with it. As the tray was delicately placed over your lap, you were greeted with a mouthwatering assortment of bread, fruit, and cheese. You dug into all of it without a care as Lady Mina gleefully walked up to an assortment of dresses.
Oh, not again, you thought with an eye roll.
“And I was thinking for today,” she sang, eyeing through the garments, “You can wear… this! ”
She pulled out a lovely silk dress, dyed the color lavender and bare on one shoulder, the otherside held together with a golden dragon pin. You could pick out the outline of the scales and teeth all the way from your place on the bed. Its jaw was open mid-roar, its eyes studded with tiny rubies, its tail snaking down to wrap around the waist.
It was… a lot.
You gulped down the lump of food in your mouth, feeling it plump down into your stomach. “Don’t you think it's a bit too much for me, Mina?"
Mina pouted. “We can replace the broach with one of your own, if you like. But you can't deny it isn't pretty…”
She dangled the dress in front of you, as if the fabric could somehow hypnotize you into saying yes.
You gulped down your guilt, almost wishing you would've fallen for it. But the truth was, your father raised you to ride on horseback, to swing a sword, to hunt alongside your brothers. Usually, you couldn’t be bothered with dresses.
"The thought is appreciated, trully,” you said with a mouthful of bread. You swallowed it down before continuing. “But I have training this morning. I very well can’t fight in, well, that .”
You gestured to the dress as if it were a wild animal with rabies and foam spilling out from the mouth.
Lady Mina huffed, not forgiving you. “All you ever do is train...”
You gave her your best pleading face, trembling lip and the biggest eyes you could make. A trick you’ve pulled since you were a child.
"Ugh, fine ," Lady Mina relented, handing the dress back to a maid. "But the King is hosting a tourney later this week, and I insist on getting you ready for that!"
She wagged a finger at you. "All of the highborns of the South are going to be there. You need to look like a proper lady of your station. Got it?"
“Yes, Lady Mina,” you nodded in fake agreement.
It wouldn't be a lie if you were gone by the time of the tourney, which you hoped to be once this damned contract was signed…
You shoved a final fistful of food into your mouth before getting ready.
And it was true when you said you could get ready on your own. A simple cotton shirt, breeches, and your boots were all you needed. You’ve forgone most of your armor since the boat, finding it all to be utterly unbearable in the Southern heat. You now only bothered with your arm braces and your scabbard.
However, as your eyes traveled over your form in the mirror, they caught onto your chestplate, tucked away in an open chest. It’s cool steel peeked out, the curve of the white fox stealing your attention with a twinkle of light, a reflection of the sun living in the fox’s eye.
Can't breathe-
Air hitched in your throat, and it was then you felt something unpleasantly strange; a cold air that brushed against the back of your shoulders and shivered into your chest.
You pulled out the chestplate and strapped it on.
"Uh, are you sure you want to do that, my lady?" Mina asked you, cautiously. "It's a very hot day, today."
"I'll be fine," you insisted, finding a strong sense of pride in the fox that guarded your heart. With that one, and the necklace you wore underneath it, you felt like you knew who you were.
A northerner, through and through.
But as a show of respect, you did let Lady Mina do your hair. She brushed it back and weaved it into a braid as you worked on fastening your arm braces.
When Lady Mina stepped back, finished, you simply couldn't afford to linger anymore.
“Thanks,” you told her, not bothering to look before leaving, too busy fidgeting with the final clasp.
You heard her scoff all the way from the door, but hopefully, she knew you enough by now to realize you meant no offense. You simply had more important matters for the day.
You walked out, and as always, Ser Midoriya stood patiently by your door, waiting.
“Good morning, m’lady!” he greeted brightly.
“Good morning, ser.” You couldn’t help but feel warmth in your heart when you saw your friend. He reminded you of your littlest brother. Eager, innocent, hopeful.
“Any ravens from home?” you asked as the both of you headed towards the grounds.
“Yes, actually!” Ser Midoriya pulled out a scroll sealed with blood red wax, stamped with the outline of your familiar.
You eagerly ripped it open, eyes meeting your mother’s perfect handwriting.
Dearest Daughter,
I insist that you return home immediately.
Of course.
The savaged prince will cut off your head-
He’s a king.
You’ve surrounded yourself with beasts, sweetling. Can’t you see? It’s only a matter of time before they gobble you up.
You snorted.
Come home, before I lose a daughter as well as a husband.
You huffed. Using your father’s death against you was low, but unfortunately, unsurprising.
“Any news on the little lord?” Ser Midoriya asked.
You skimmed through the rest of the letter, worry pinching your face the farther you went down.
“No. Nothing.”
You crumpled the letter up into a ball and handed it back to Midoriya, who took it with no response, long-used to your mood when receiving a raven from mother.
A couple of courtiers passed by, their gazes straying down to the fox on your chest. You saw them lean into each other in a conniving manner, whispering.
“The Lady of the North...”
You expected the stares. You were probably the first northerner to walk through these halls in decades afterall, and nothing fueled the court more than whispers, rumors, and gossip.
You imagined that you were the main topic of all three today.
But what did surprise you were the glances cast at your knight.
“The green hair? He’s the one that jousted against the King...”
You showed no sign that you heard them, keeping your head forward. But once you passed them, you looked over to your knight. “It seems your reputation is quite bigger than I've been led to believe, ser.”
And as you predicted, Ser Midoriya flinched and stuttered to answer. “I-I told your lord father everything when I arrived at court, m’lady! I swear!”
“Maybe so, but now you must tell me,” you leaned in to talk quieter, in case there were any stray ears. “Without a written agreement, the Dragon King can have second thoughts on the trade. Perhaps he already is , and maybe that's why it's taking so long… You must tell me your tale, ser."
Ser Midoriya just looked at you, confused. "But, m'lady, Kacchan would never do that. He gave you his word."
Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, bewilderment making you louder, " Kacchan? You have a nickname for him?"
“W-Well, we grew up together,” Midoriya explained, face turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. His eyes roamed down, up, to the side, everywhere but at you.
You stopped, grabbing onto Ser Midoriya’s shoulder so he would do the same. When he still refused to look at you, you shook him gently, forcing him to do so.
“There’s no one I trust more than you, ser, can't you see? It’s your opinion that I value the most. Not the Dragon King’s.”
Ser Midoriya stood there, twiddling his thumbs. “It’s just that… it’s embarrassing m’lady. A-And" –he suddenly looked up at you, fists now clenched and eyes sparkling with determination– “I’m not that man anymore. I’m a knight now, and I’m going to be the best in all the lands!”
You gave a small smile at his declaration. Truthfully, it didn’t surprise you. You found that the ones most often looked down on were the ones with the biggest dreams, and Ser Midoriya was probably the most doubted knight in the entire realm. It was easy for the world to do so, with his naturally scrawny frame, panicked attitude, and lack of name.
But you've seen the knight grow. You've seen him be the very first one on the training grounds and the very last one to leave. You've seen how seriously he takes his duty in protecting you, how he treats your family with the utmost respect.
You've seen the boy become the man.
“You forget, ser. I train with you," you reminded him. “If I thought you were an embarrassment, I would have said so.”
You held onto both of his shoulders now, hoping your persistence would be proof of your honesty. "I already believe you capable of anything. There is nothing you need to prove to me, ser."
You released your hold on him, crossing your arms stubbornly.
“Now, tell me.”
Midoriya released a shaky breath, tears brimming in his forest-green eyes, and for a fearful moment you thought the knight would outright weep, but then he shook his head, wiping them away.
“Okay.”
He pulled you away into a corner, where his story could be hidden by stone and shadow.
“As you know, I was working as a stable boy here, in the Southlands. But, I’ve always dreamt of becoming a knight. My favorite story as a boy was always-”
“-Ser Toshinori Yagi, the All Mighty Knight of the Goldlands,” you finished for him.
Midoriya rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, well. I would run into Kacchan a lot back then but… but often times Kacchan didn’t want me around."
You narrowed your eyes at his hesitancy. You could read inbetween the lines. You knew how cruel men like the Bakugou Katsuki could be.
Midoriya went on. "He was training to be a knight too, you see. He kept talking about us going to war soon-”
“And how would he know that?” you interrupted snootily. “The Old Lord of the South didn’t even suspect war, so how did he ?”
“Kacchan has the blood of the dragon, m’lady,” your knight explained. “He has dragon dreams.”
“Dragon dreams?”
Ser Midoriya nodded.
Your oncoming dislike of the King hindered for a moment as you absorbed the information.
You’ve read about the blood of the dragon. The last known carrier was the Dragon Queen. It was written that she never burned, that her dreams were premonitions, that her shouts could make dragons heel, while her whispers could make them roar.
And, it was written that she was the last who could do so.
"Is this true?" you asked carefully.
Midoriya nodded. “He claimed a dragon when he was five, m'lady.”
Shock flowed through you at the idea.
Five years old…
“Well." With a heavy sigh, you slumped against the wall. "I guess that would prove it.”
You looked up, eyes roaming over the stone of the ceiling as you mused. “I never expected the Dragon King to be a dreamer.”
Midoriya looked down sheepishly, almost as if he were guilty of something. “If you ask about it, he'll deny it, m'lady. Kachaan thinks it makes him look superstitious…"
Is that what happened to you, ser? You made a mention of his dreams, and he beat you for it?
"B-But anyways," –Midoriya shook his head, clearing whatever thought that clouded it– "when the tourney was announced, we all thought that this was it; this was how we can prove ourselves and become knights. Kacchan kept talking about how he would win and be named Commander-”
You snorted. “From one tourney win? Doubtful.”
Midoriya shook his head, correcting you. “By then, Kacchan had a lot of influence, m’lady. He was able to command a dragon, and he was in the Old Lord's favor."
“Really?” you asked, astonished. “So just like that? He won and was named Commander?”
Midoriya nodded, tears brimming once again as he recounted shamefully, “The very first round, Kacchan was put up against me and…” –tears started to fill more as Midoriya choked– “And as soon as I charged, somehow the girth came undone…”
“And you fell off.”
“And I fell off!” Midoriya cried.
His sobs bounced off of the walls as Ser Midoriya could no longer hold it in. He doubled over, completely consumed by his emotions, and you saw curious courtiers start to peek their heads your way.
“There, there, ser.” You patted his back reassuringly. “Your riding skills have improved tremendously since you’ve been with me. Your fighting skills, too.”
“I know that.” Ser Midoriya wiped his tears away. “And even then, I knew I could do better. I stood up and went to mount my horse again.”
“As you should,” you nodded.
“But…” Midoriya hesitated. He looked up at you, and you knew then that you wouldn’t like what he had to say. “But Kacchan wouldn’t allow it, m’lady.”
“What?!” you exclaimed. “ Why? You did nothing wrong.”
"He said I was hopeless, that there was no way I could fight, and if I wasn't fit to represent the Southlands on the battlefield, then I wasn't fit to represent them at all," Midoriya recounted in sorrow. "And the Old Lord listened, m’lady, so I was banished."
“That is-” you choked on your anger, too steamed to finish.
Unfair . Dishonorable . Cowardly. Those were the words that came to mind.
“I don’t like this King,” you decided, making your way back towards the light of the hallway.
Anger and guilt twisted your stomach as you realized, that’s why Ser Midoriya begged you to let him fight the other day. He saw it as his chance to regain his honor, and you didn’t let him. You thought it was your duty to challenge the King yourself, in the name of your House.
You peeked over your shoulder, at Ser Midoriya, who was now dejectedly following behind you.
“There’s a tourney coming up later this week. You can fight then,” you decided.
Ser Midoriya’s face brightened immediately. He reminded you of a child seeing his first fall of snow. “Really, m'lady?! You'll let me?”
Your anger melted at the sight of his excitement. “Why, of course, ser. You will be the sole representative of the North. I swear.”
Midoriya’s face turned serious, his determined nature taking root once more. “Yes, m’lady! I will make you proud.”
You didn’t doubt it, but now you'll have to deal with Mina…
Fresh sun hit your face as you reached the grounds. Along with it, the air, tainted with the smell of sweat, blood, and the putrid stench of dragon caves, their presence out of sight yet far from forgotten. Your gaze traveled from the men moving about- from the knights, squires, and stableboys maneuvering through the chaos of work- to the main sparing area, which sat directly in the sun.
Can't hide your weaknesses when you're basked in light, you thoughtfully observed.
“Are you sure you wish to train today, m’lady?” you heard Midoriya ask. “You’re wrist-”
“It’s fine ,” you assured him, flapping your wrist around to prove it. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. Besides, we need to practice.” You walked into the sun and pulled out your sword, it’s thin blade pointing at Ser Midoriya’s chin. “Let’s go .”
Your knight stared in surprise at your showmanship before promptly furrowing his brows, looking back with fiery confidence. “Right!”
He pulled out his own sword, and as sudden as lightning, you two began, your motions turning into a dance you knew very well.
“Keep your guard up!” you told him.
Midoriya listened and moved to correct his stance, but that was when you had him. You knocked his sword away.
“Keep your head as well,” you joked.
Midoriya huffed in amusement, resetting himself for the next round. You followed.
The both of you simultaneously began once more. You danced around your knight mercilessly, fighting him with the same sly brutality you showed the King.
Ser Midoriya was your knight, afterall. If he couldn’t hold a fight against you , then there really was no point to him, was there?
But just like you knew he would, Midoriya kept up, though be it, with a very strained look on his face. You weren't sure if he was afraid of you hitting him or he hitting you . You knew if he actually gave you an injury, Ser Midoriya would never forgive himself-
You felt a solid tap on the chest, sword hitting your armor with a solid tink.
“Yes!” Midoriya cheered.
“Nicely done,” you complimented.
It was what you deserved, with your mind wandering about.
Head in the clouds, ears in the trees, your father used to say.
You both repositioned, swords high and eyes pierced into one another, waiting to see what the next move might be.
Ser Midoriya was smart enough to keep his eye on your hip, where your dagger was hidden. You've been known to pull it out when least expected, surprising your opponent when their attention was focused on your sword. A trick that helped you with Bakugou, but unlike him, Midoriya has sparred with you many times now. He knew your tricks.
You both circled around each other, waiting.
"JUST GO ALREADY!" Somebody screamed, and immediately, everyone in your peripherals stood at attention.
Perhaps out of spite, you broke your stance, refusing to do so.
You could feel the glare of the Dragon King once more, this time from the shadow of the balcony.
You remained tall and glared back.
Just because you were making a trade with the Dragon King didn't mean you had to bow to his every whim. He was the King of the South , and your loyalty was to home. To your people.
To your knight, you thought furiously, Ser Midoriya’s tale taking center place once more.
"Good morning, Your Grace," you greeted curtly.
Bakugou continued to glare, eyes searching for a sign that you'll buckle. However, he seemed to find none, for he turned his head away with a huff.
"Mornin'," he grunted before making his way down the steps. Obnoxiously slow, obnoxiously loud.
He wore a fresh cape today, still sporting the blood red color of his House. His chest was still bare, still proudly exposing the tattoos he earned in battle (and yet shamefully, your cheeks flared as if it were all new).
However, what was new was the chain he wore around his neck, made out of tiny sharp teeth.
The baby teeth of his dragon, perhaps?
When he reached the ground, the King's eyes immediately latched onto your knight, burning with an unmatched fury.
"Deku," he growled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
You noticed your knight's hands shaking by his sides, and so you interjected.
"He's my knight, and I asked him to help me train," you answered coolly. "What's it to you?"
The King barked out a laugh. " Right . I've seen the worm fight before." He inched closer intimidatingly. "More like you were training him ."
And then a sword appeared between you two.
"I'm a knight of the North now, Kacchan." Ser Midoriya's voice was tight but steady, and you saw Bakugou's eyes flare even more. "I must ask that you keep your distance from m'lady. She's already close enough to hear whatever you have to say."
The King's face twisted into a deadly scowl. "Stop calling me that! I'm a king-"
"But not his," you cut in, your own eyes piercing coldly into the dragon's. Ice to the fire. "Ser Midoriya belongs to the North now. Remember?"
You saw the King's scowl pinch in, just slightly before it turned into a cruel, arrogant smirk.
"Must be where the cowards go."
Anger flared within you, contained only by the hard steel of the fox that protected your chest. In fear that you would snap and ruin the agreement before it was even written, you said nothing.
"You northerners won't last five seconds in the dragon caves," the King went on.
You felt a brow perch up, asking, "Oh? Is that what we're doing today?"
The King's scowl returned. "I told ya' I was gonna show you how we get blackstone, didn't I?"
"We’re going to mine blackstone?" you asked with genuine curiosity, anger gone for now.
But, how ?
"Just come along, will ya'?" The King growled darkly before walking away.
The way he said it cowed you into obedience. You were both curious to see how the southerners attempted to mine, as well as the sudden seriousness that seemed to possess the King.
And in following him, you got to see the true power he welded.
Everywhere the Dragon King went, the people would stop. Women dropped to the floor in curtsies. Men would bend the knee. Knights and guards would stand at attention and salute, any hint of life gone in the presence of their liege.
You expected he liked it that way.
And how the King wouldn’t stop or even nod at his courtiers. Instead, he chose to act as if they didn't exist at all, keeping his head forward as he marched towards the gateway. It wasn’t until you were halfway there when you noticed…
“You don’t have a guard?” you asked curiously.
The King snorted. "Like to see someone try . In my own castle…”
Good point. Only a fool would dare to slay a dragon when they're in the belly of its lair.
The three of you reached the gateway, reintroduced to the sky once more, and the sight in front of you brought a smile to your face.
“Oh good! We’re riding there!”
The first horse you saw was the one in front, a bay gelding with a tail that wouldn't stop flicking. The sootiness of his coat shined against the sunlight, bringing attention towards his strong legs and dark snout, his eyes dark as night. He wore a gold trimmed saddle with blood red padding, all bearing the sigil of a golden dragon breathing flame.
The Dragon King's.
But then you spotted the light-gray mare behind him, her coat reminding you of snow. Not the pure white snow that blessed the North deep within the winter season, but the real snow you used to see every day; the slush that squished under your feet when you walked to the stables. The half-melted snow that cornered the gateway, forming into small mountains you and your brothers used to climb, and then later fall in. The dirty snow your older brother dared you to eat once (and you almost did, until mother saw you and screamed bloody murder).
It was the type of snow hardly anyone ever thought about.
And how the mare's eyes bled into yours, her stature unmoving and calm, her long tail occasionally flicking with the unearthed energy that she was, no doubt, reserving for the ride.
You walked past the King to greet her, making sure to keep to her side, so that her eyes could be on you as you approached carefully.
"Hello, there," you spoke to her in a gentle tone, holding a cautious hand to her nose so she could catch your scent.
She took some sniffs and sighed into your touch, her own sign of welcome. She then nudged her nose into your palm, urging you to pet her.
You let out a giggle at her persistence, finding a light-hearted joy you haven't felt in a very long time.
“I take it you like to ride, my lady?” a voice startled you, bringing you back to your surroundings.
You didn't even notice the man next to you, which was saying something given his solid build and eccentric red hair. Everything about him read strong and warrior , yet he wore a gentle smile with kind eyes to match.
You bashfully answered. “As soon as I learned how to walk, I learned how to ride. The North is full of open land, you see. It’s far more practical to be on horseback than inside a carriage.”
The large man smiled, showing off his sparkling sharp teeth.
“You’ll like Yuki, then. She’s nice, but she sure likes to run.” The man patted the horse's neck affectionately.
Your chest panged with heartbreak once more, as you remembered how you had to give up your own stead for the northern cause.
Another sacrifice for the war.
The man turned towards you, and nodded his head in the form of a bow. “Kirishima Eijirou, if it pleases my lady.”
It was then that you spotted the gold broach holding the man’s cape together. It was a hand, palm open in a show of promise.
“You're the Hand?” you asked, surprised. But then again, perhaps it was unsurprising that someone like Bakugou Katsuki would want someone equally built along his side.
“Indeed, I am!" Kirishima cheerfully replied. "Sorry for not greeting you at the gate. We had a-”
“Oi, Ei!” The King barked. “Quit yapping and get on a damn horse!”
The Dragon King was already on his stead, ready to go.
“Best not to keep His Grace waiting,” you grumbled sarcastically.
Kirishima leaned towards you, whispering as if in conspiracy. “You’ll find that he’s more roar than bite, my lady. I promise.” He tossed you another smile before leaving to head to his own horse.
You felt your brows furrow in confusion.
Somehow, you doubted that.
You mounted Yuki with ease, her steady nature being a welcomed gift after dealing with the fiery tempers of this morning.
And, you were sure, the fiery tempers you still had to deal with.
“M’lady is one of the best riders in the North!” Midoriya excitedly proclaimed, mounting his own horse clumsily. “She raced against all of the lords and knights of the land and beat them all! Even her lord brother.”
The King snarled. “As long as she’s better than you.”
Anger flared inside you, and quite suddenly, you felt the need for a challenge. “Have you ever raced against a northerner before, Your Grace?”
The King scoffed, jutting a thumb towards his chest as he bragged, “I’ve ridden dragons, Lady! I doubt you can beat me.”
You smirked.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” you said smoothly. Then without any warning, you hit your reins, urging your horse to run with a loud “Ya!”
And you left everyone in the dust.
You could hear the shouts of the King behind you. “Oi! This is cheating! Get your ass back here!”
You also heard the cries of your knight. “M’lady, please! You can’t just leave like that!”
You looked back, catching the sorry sight of them struggling to catch up, and your laugh carried you over to the other side of the Bridge. Out of mercy (and also because you genuinely did not know the way), you slowed Yuki down to stop.
The King caught up to you within a second, halting right next to you.
“That doesn’t count!” he scolded, eyes burning angrily into yours.
You rolled eyes and shrugged. “It was a joke, Your Grace. Nothing more…”
He scoffed, melted gaze fading into curiosity. You felt his eyes stray to your posture, how posed you looked on a horse, but then they stopped at your chestplate.
"You wearing that for the whole day?" he asked you calmly.
For some unknown reason, you felt a prickle of nervousness creep up to the back of your neck. "Yes, Your Grace. I was planning on it."
You watched as Bakugou's brow arched up, his face contorting into a look of confusion and disgust.
He thought you were stupid.
But just as quickly as the expression appeared, it fell as you heard him grumble quietly, "Fine. It's your funeral."
Then he rode his horse ahead of you, leading the way, and as you watched his retreating form, you couldn't help but ponder over his sudden cut off from you.
It was almost as if he were disappointed in you.
And then you found yourself questioning your choice, wondering if perhaps it was a stupid idea, wearing a chestplate on a day like this.
You were starting to feel it- the strong band of heat trapped inside the plate. The weight of it was starting to drag you down, and when you looked, you saw that no one else was wearing anything to a similar degree. Even your knight, who wore his whole uniform on the very first day, was now only wearing his pauldrons over a light shirt.
Doubt started to sink in, and your fingers started to play at the clasps holding the plate together.
Can't breathe-
All of the air suddenly escaped from your lungs, like you were punched in the gut, forcing you to take a greedy breath in. The chill that tickled your skin returned, making the sweat that coated your skin turn ice cold. It was like a ghost was passing through you, inflicting you with the feeling of his bloodless fate.
So you decided to keep the chestplate on as you rode alongside your party, more of the King's soldiers following close behind.
Silence filled the time of the journey, as dirt and land started to give away to sand, beach rocks, and tall grass peeking through it. Even though this was in the Southlands, you felt as if Tochiryuu was an island, a place of its own with nothing but the things inside it; the beat of the sun, the white of the sand, and the roar of the ocean that was slowly growing bigger and bigger, its water twinkling like it was made out of stars.
Maybe the sea wasn’t such a sorry sight after all.
And as you turned your head around, marveling at the beauty of the beach. You couldn’t help but think there was a battle here, not that long ago.
“So, tell me about Sunset Beach.”
A wave of tension seemed to pass through the King and his Hand, and for a moment, you thought perhaps you got it wrong.
“This is where you had your big victory, yes?” you asked the King directly.
His crimson eyes seemed to darken into the color of blood as they peeked back at you.
“Aye,” was all he said.
You huffed. "Well, King of Victory. Wouldn't you like to tell me how you earned the name?”
Surely he expected you to ask about it?
But oddly enough, the Dragon King didn’t reply. He just turned away and completely ignored you.
You didn’t understand. You'd imagined an arrogant man like Bakugou Katsuki wouldn't dare miss the opportunity to brag. Was his success exaggerated? Or was the battle more gruesome than how the songs described it to be?
Either way, you got it wrong, and you found yourself looking back at Ser Midoriya for guidance. But, he looked just as puzzled as you, his face scrunched up in deep concern as he met your gaze.
The heat within your chestplate started to curl up and tighten your throat. You suddenly felt panicked at the idea that the King didn’t like you. Personally, you wouldn’t have cared. You didn’t necessarily like him either, but your country was on the line. The King could decide not to follow through on the agreement. You needed to stay in good graces, at least until the bloody contract was signed and you could get the hell out of here.
You decided the best route was to just keep your mouth shut for the rest of the journey, and try to impress later.
“Have you been to the caves yet, my lady?” Kirishima suddenly asked you. He sounded kindly, and he even slowed his horse down so he could be by your side, better to hear you.
So much for keeping your mouth shut.
You swallowed down your reluctance to speak. “Not yet, but I’ve read about them, my lord.”
You eyed the King warily before going on. “The caves live just south of the Arashi Mountains. Not only are they the only known caves that hold blackstone, but they are home to many other gems as well- blood rubies, yellow diamonds. But…” You looked back at Kirishima. “But because of all of that, they're a natural attraction for dragons.”
Kirishima nodded. “That’s right. Dragons love treasure. Many of them end up making their nests in the caves. They're crawling with them.” And then, perhaps fearing that the comment would scare you, the lord backtracked. “B-But not to worry! The King and I have been in the caves many times. Right, Your Grace?!”
The King grumbled under his breath before begrudgingly replying, “Know ‘em like the back of my hand.”
“I trust you,” you told Kirishima, but your eyes did briefly wander over to the Dragon King.
The Arashi Mountains grew bigger. You could now pick out the lines of smoke that punctured various corners, curling up into the sky and beyond it, making the peaks disappear. The stormy-black of the rock seemed to swallow the sun that touched it, painting its entire aura gray. You caught the smaller pieces of rock circling around the base, how jagged and sharp they appeared to be as they covered the pitch-back that was the entrance to the caves.
You then spotted the white tents lined up around it, the small ants of men moving about to the faint sound of metalwork, as more lines of smoke traveled up from the ground, signaling the presence of bonfire.
But then a mighty roar vibrated through the sky. You looked up behind you and saw a tiny black speck flying, growing bigger and bigger until you struggled to see under the brightness of the sun. You felt a rush of wind fan your cheeks and whip through your hair, and the darkness the dragon brought shielded you from the torture as it flew over you. As it passed, you saw the familiar colors; red shimmering into black and green as it headed towards the mountains before you, letting out another roar as the dragon reached its home.
You saw the King smirk with pride.
"Katsuko" he greeted.
"Yours?" you asked.
The King whipped his head towards you, and for a moment you thought he would ignore you again or at least give you another half-ass answer, but pride seemed to take over. He boasted,"Of course. It's only right that the King has the best dragon."
"Is he the biggest?"
Bakugou snorted, hopping off the horse to walk the rest of the way towards the caves. "For his age. He’ll only grow bigger as he gets older, don’t worry."
You weren’t.
Truthfully, you weren’t too keen on the dragons yet. You admitted they were beautiful creatures and that they held a charming sense of power and grace when they flew in the air, beyond any danger or limitation. But you faintly wondered about the consequences of taming such a beast…
You went to unmount as well when a dizzy spell hit you, knees buckling as your feet touched ground. You held onto the saddle to keep yourself steady.
Ser Midoriya raced to your side when he noticed. “M’lady! Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, ser,” you gritted determinedly, still feeling light-headed.
“Are… are you sure you need the chestplate, m’lady?” Midoriya asked quietly. “If it’s your safety you're worried about, don’t worry! I’m sure Kacchan knows what he’s doing, and I’m here-”
“I said I’m fine, ser,” you seethed, hating to snap at him, but now the ghostly feeling has increased tenfold, from brushing against your shoulders to now trapping you in a bear hug, whispering in your ear…
Can't breathe…
You squirmed under its warning.
Your eyes peeked open to find Ser Midoriya staring at you in worry.
You gave a short, exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, but my gut is telling me to keep the plate on and so it stays on. And that’s that.”
Ser Midoria nodded silently in agreement, although the worry was still plain on his face.
You both followed behind the King and His Hand, who were currently being greeted by a familiar face.
“Ah, great! The Dragon Whisperer has arrived.” Kaminari approached, a wide grin on his face as he bowed to the King.
Bakugou grunted in response and simply moved past him, heading towards a large slab of stone set in the middle of the base, sanded down so that it resembled a table. Some men were huddled around it, but quickly stepped aside for him. You had a feeling if they didn’t, the King would’ve just plowed through them anyway.
Lord Kaminari didn’t seem phased however, and instead his gaze landed on you.
“My lady,” he said with another bow. “I hope your ride was pleasant.”
“Better than the carriage,” you muttered grumpily.
It was true. Although the heat was gruesome and it was currently racing through your veins like snake venom, it was still a better journey. Afterall, you had yet to throw up.
A canteen floated right in front of your face. You grabbed at it- delighted to find it was real - and saw that it was your knight that gave it to you, worry still etched onto his face.
You ignored it, and drank out of the canteen heavily, fresh water flowing down your throat and branching through the rest of your body in heavenly relief.
You wanted to pass it back to Ser Midoriya, but he beated you to it by insisting you needed to catch up to the King, who was studying the slab. As you went to do so, you eagerly eyed the men working on the tools- pickaxes, hammers, and spears you quickly noted. You squinted in on them, and was shocked to find they were working with steel. Not blackstone.
Then, how?
You reached the King, approaching on his left. You looked down, curious of the source of his attention, and saw that the slab was carved with many lines, some short and some stretching to the opposite side, all of them connecting like the roots of a tree. At certain points, there were names, some of them faded so that you had to squint to read- Kinba, Shiroi Tsubasa, Kanibaru -and some of them were new, freshly carved- Musouka, Katsuko …
It was a map… and the names must be where the dragons live.
"So, which path are we taking?” you asked.
Bakugou huffed, dragging a finger from the older end, passing through Kanibaru and following the main line all the way down until reaching Katsuko , and then Musouka .
Your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach.
“We’re going through their nests?” you asked in quiet horror.
“That’s how we find blackstone,” the King shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “The dragons are attracted to it, so they nest where it’s at.”
“And luckily for us, Musouka’s expanding her home!” Kirishima joyfully informed you. “She must be laying eggs soon.”
“‘Means she’ll be even more territorial,” the King grumbled. “We have to be careful bringing Katsuko in there.”
“We’re bringing Katsuko?” you asked.
“‘Need him to melt down the rock,” the King answered before turning towards Kaminari. “Oi! Where’s Musouka now?!”
“On flight, Your Grace. The watchtower last reported her heading east.”
“Then we need to move now,” the King stated, and in the wink of an eye, everyone did, and with such urgency that you found yourself looking in every direction, utterly lost.
“W-Wait! What if she comes back?!” Ser Midoriya cried, looking just as confused as you.
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know,” Kaminari winked, handing each of you a torch, top end wrapped in cloth and reeking of alcohol. A heavy pack was suddenly tossed your way, and you peered inside it to find a pickaxe, rope, gloves, and a fresh canteen.
“You’ll also need this. The smell is quite strong down there.” Kaminari then handed each of you a large white cloth.
You gave a good whiff and found that the putrid scent of the mountains, which was once tolerable in the city, was now churning deeply in your stomach.
Oh, you can not throw up again.
You secured the cloth over your nose and mouth, as tightly as you could. Then, you faced the pitch black of the cave’s entrance. No torches lined up against the wall, nor any wagon tracks. The only physical sign that man has been in that cave before was the slab of rock right next you.
Steeling yourself, as much as you could with the heat and the smell, you marched towards the black, but as soon as you met Kirishima at the entrance, you heard something big walking up behind you.
You turned to find none other than Katsuko the Dragon, being way too close to your comfort with the King riding on top of him, looking as smug as ever, even with the cloth over his mouth.
It made you feel more sick than the stench ever could.
You all scrambled to get out of the way as Katsuko continued to march past you.
“Just follow me, northerners, and you’ll be fine,” the Dragon King bragged.
Torches lit, you, Midoriya, and Kirishima silently walked behind Katsuko, who led the way. Wings tucked and body flat, the dragon scurried through the tunnels almost like a lizard, his tail slithering after him.
As rock and dirt crunched under your feet, you observed the walls around you, your torch light capturing the indented black that swallowed you whole, its tiny glimmers shining from your fire. It looked solid. Strong. And yet you knew you could easily take your pickaxe and pick a piece off.
It wasn’t blackstone. Blackstone only shined in sunlight.
Your eyes strayed down to find a white line of rope tied to the sides, a bell attached every few inches. You followed the line all the way until darkness stopped you.
Kaminari.
That’s what he meant. If Musouka comes back, he’ll pull the rope and ring the bells.
You all continue your path silently, letting the distant echoes of the cave consume you. It was somehow calming, the sound of the caves; the small drip of water from somewhere in the dark, the small roar of fire that came from your torches, the small shuffles of your footsteps, even the small sounds of Katsuko as he sniffed and scampered his way ahead.
All of these small sounds being casted out into the vibrant air of the cave, traveling through and meeting into one singular song. It gave you this strange, lulling sense of tranquility, one you were only familiar with through the whispering woods of home.
You hated to interrupt it, but you had questions.
“Why aren’t we using the blackstone tools?”
Everyone stopped to look at you. Even Katsuko.
“What blackstone tools?!” The King barked, the echoes of the cave capturing his voice and making it louder.
And it was such an offensive response that you couldn’t help but stare at him, speaking full of snark. “You know, the ones my family made…"
The Blacksmith's Hammer. The Anvil. The Five Pickaxes. Tools that have been passed down to your family for generations, that is, until the truce was broken.
“Eh?” the King asked. “Why the hell would we have those?!”
All you could do was look blankly ahead, the flare of your annoyance washed away into stupor.
“You… you don’t have them?” you asked quietly, fear and heartbreak creeping in with the thought that your ancestor’s creations may be gone for good.
“No, my lady.” Lord Kirishima shook his head . “At least, not us nor the Old Lord.”
“Do…" Your throat clogged with emotion, forcing you to clear it out and adjust your mask. "Do you think the Dragon Queen did something to them?”
“I wouldn’t know, my lady.” Kirishima shook his head again, sadly .
You let the sharp pain of grief curl up around your throat before stubbornly swallowing it down, ceasing the sting in your eyes along with it.
“That’s why our pickaxes are plain,” you roughed out, continuing your walk. "And why we need Katsuko to melt down the stone."
Dragon fire.
Except for blackstone itself, it's the only thing that can affect it. Without the Blacksmith’s tools, it would be the only option.
"And what do we do if we run into a stray?" you asked nervously.
No one answered.
Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you took the silence for what it was and moved along.
You let your hand brush along the cave wall, feeling the coarseness scratch along your palm, and you wondered distractedly, how far down were you? Then, how far down did the tunnels go? You haven’t even passed through the first dragon’s nest yet…
The sound of your footsteps began to grow louder, crunchier , and then,
Snap.
Startled, you looked down, absent mindedly thinking you somehow stepped on a twig.
But that couldn’t be right.
And when you brought your torch down to the ground, you saw it- the stick of bone white, coated with ash.
You swallowed down your fear over the sickening realization that, you were getting close.
“Kanibaru. That’s the first nest, yes?”" you asked nervously.
The King rumbled, “Aye.”
“And, do we need to worry about him?”
He let out a snort. “Kanibaru’s been dead for years, lady. We’ll be fine.”
"Not too far now, m’lady," Kirishima assured you.
You looked over towards your knight, who's been oddly silent since entering the caves, his eyes downcasted in deep thought.
“Are you alright, ser?”
Midoriya blinked, startled back to reality by your voice. “Oh! Y-Yes, m’lady. I was just pondering over the name.”
“Kanibaru?”
Ser Midoriya nodded solemnly. “Cannibal.”
Ice cold dread ran through your veins, making you feel cold once again despite the warmth of your armor.
The temperature of the air was fine, but the strong stench of dragon was fully watering your eyes now. You found yourself furiously wiping away your tears with your arm.
“Watch your feet!” the King called behind him.
You immediately looked down, seeing the bones in Kirishima’s torchlight. No longer were they fragments, hidden in the earth, but fully exposed and bigger.
And bigger…
Bones grew and multiplied. While once you were watching your step, now you were actively maneuvering around them- stepping over a ribcage only to narrowly avoid what appeared to be a broken sheep skull.
But then the bones went on, until they formed tiny mountains of their own and it was impossible to ignore the sickening crunches and snaps that formed under your feet, as you had no choice but to fully step on them now.
And then you reached the nest.
Large white pillars sat on both ends, forcing Katsuko to tighten himself so he could crawl under it while Bakugou ducked, the rest of you huddling closer into the center. As you carefully stepped through, you looked up, seeing the roof that was the spine. And once you passed the pillars and the broken off roof, there were a few steps of nothing, and then…
The skull.
It was facing away from you, so you couldn’t quite see it in all its glory yet, but Katsuko could, and he didn't like it. The dragon growled softly at the bone, sniffing at it and nudging it with his nose before his jaw opened slightly, growl growing louder and more rattled.
“Oi, Katsuko,” The Dragon King warned, “Rybas.”
The dragon let out another growl before turning his head and continuing walking.
And when you circled around the great white marble, you caught the side of the jaw, and then, the heavy spears of the teeth. The ones toward the front of the mouth were chipped off and broken, but the ones towards the back were completely intact, and so large- you imagined all it took was one strong bite for any prey to be turned into a slush of meat.
Your eyes traveled up the eye sockets, the one on the right torn and shattered all the way down the cheek.
The final bite that killed it.
When your fascination began to drag you behind, Ser Midoriya grabbed your elbow, nervously urging, “C’mon, m’lady! Best to keep moving.”
Sweat coated the palm holding your torch. You grasped it tighter, suddenly fearful of any small sound that passed through, your peace dampened with the idea that a dragon had no qualms killing one of its own.
But the bones soon disappeared, and the regular pathway of the tunnels returned, turning your thought into nothing but a shadow in your own mind.
Your chestplate grew heavier and heavier the farther you went down, and soon you found yourself being the last one in the group. At least, you would’ve been, if Ser Midoriya didn’t insist on staying by your side, making sure you were keeping up.
And you tried to, you really did, but the weight of the chestplate felt heavier than stone, and every slight breeze that passed through seemed to tickle the back of your neck and crawl down to the bottom of your spine, making you shiver as the haunting came back again and again.
You kept waiting for the bells to ring, or worse, the small rumblings of a beast to poke through.
But besides the sounds of your party passing through, there was nothing, and Katsuko seemed to not be worried at all. In fact, he seemed to be going faster now, eager to reach his own domain.
The pathway began to grow wider. You, Midoriya, and Kirishima now free to walk with a bit of space, nothing but the darkness of the void and the small specks of torchlight warding it off, until Katsuko suddenly took a left turn, leaving you all chasing to follow.
The dragon took a few more steps then abruptly stopped, causing a domino effect for Kirishima, Midoriya, and you.
Katsuko grumbled softly again, flapping his wings slightly as he entered his own home. The white pieces of bone once again resurfaced from the ground, this time, only the remains of sheep scattered along with it.
But glittering light soon caught your eye, and you squinted closely to see the shadows of gold. You brought your torch in front of you, illuminating the hoard of treasure in all of its sparkling glory; not only gold, but diamonds and rubies as well, all hidden safely within the darkness of the caves and further protected by its owner, Katsuko The Dragon himself.
“Don’t you dare touch any of it,” The King commanded, yelling over his shoulder. “This is his , got it?!”
You nodded silently in agreement.
You lingered on the treasure until your eyes traveled up, meeting the giant hole in the wall.
“Is this where you got the blackstone for your throne?” you asked innocently.
“Aye,” the King grumbled.
If they had the Anvil, they would’ve been able to make more tools…
Katsuko suddenly decided that he had enough walking for the day. He marched up to his hoard and started digging into it.
Katsuko grumbled, before turning it into a growl, and then, a sharp whine. His tail swung out dangerously, whipping left and right, hitting the cave walls.
You backed away nervously, as Ser Midoriya pulled you back even more, behind him.
“Oi,” the Dragon King warned. He started speaking in full sentences, in the language you didn’t understand.
But Katusko cocked his head, listening. Then, with a great huff, he turned around and continued down the path towards Musouka’s domain.
By now, the smell was so strong, your nostrils burned. You tightened the tie on your cloth to no avail, stuck with the stench attacking your nose hairs, and the long journey wasn't just weighing on Katsuko. Everyone was starting to feel fatigued, tension and impatience was starting to build in the air, and you feared that a single sneeze would cause the King to snap at you.
"Getting close…" he grumbled, stretching out his back while Katsuko carried him.
Easy for him to say. He didn't have to walk…
But then, shortly afterward, the King was proven right. You arrived.
Musouka’s home was definitely the biggest you’ve seen so far, with gold and jewels completely blocking the walls with its tall peaks, while bones and carcasses painted the floor, all of it forming into one very large nest of treasure and death.
Katsuko rumbled greedily as heavy steam began to leak out of his nostrils, with his tail slithering sinfully to and fro.
"Katsuko, umbas."
The dragon grumbled, shaking his head at the command, before begrudgingly, sitting himself down, staying.
The Dragon King hopped off his back, heading towards the back wall to move all the gold. Kirishima moved to help him, while you and Ser Midoriya held your torches high so they could see.
They exposed the smooth, black surface of the wall, not a single hint of shimmer reflected anywhere.
You walked up to touch it, feeling the familiar smoot-yet-rough scratch as it grazed your palm.
Blackstone.
“Get your asses back,” the King told everyone, and once again, you felt Ser Midoriya gently guide you back, making you to be the farthest away from the wall.
You peeked over Midoriya’s shoulder, watching Bakugou walk up to Katsuko, standing by his side.
“Katsuko.” The King nodded towards the wall. “Dracarys.”
Katsuko scrunched his neck, growling deeply as a burning ball of flame formed deep in his throat.
Then, the dragon roared with all his might, a great wave of fire shooting out of his mouth and hitting the wall in all its fury.
The whole cave seemed to come to life, suddenly illuminated by the dragon fire as every shadow disappeared, and all the smell of dragon was burned to a crisp, replaced entirely by the smell of fire. The dry heat was hitting your face, burning your cheeks and making your heart pound furiously in your chest, its thump bumping the steel fox in front of it.
Then the roar died, the cave returned to darkness once more, and the wall of blackstone now glowed a fiery red.
“Quick! Put your gloves on and start picking at it!” Kirishima shouted, hurrying to do the very thing himself.
You threw down your bag, and dug in for the gloves, made from a very thick leather and a bit too big for your hands, but you put them on, grabbed your pickaxe, and ran to the wall.
“Careful. Don’t let the stone touch you,” the King warned. “Only grab it by the glove, got it?”
“Aye,” you answered him, moving to take a swing.
You managed to pick a chunk off, much to your delight. You grabbed it carefully with your gloved hand, and ran back to grab your bag- deciding to put the rock in there once it cooled.
You all kept picking at the blackstone, slowly gathering as much as you could in silence. The wall was now chunked to pieces, while the rest of it began to cool, the glow of dragon fire beginning to fade away.
You went to take what was maybe your last swing, and then…
A low, soft rumble echoed quietly down the tunnel.
You froze.
"Stop!" you whisper-cried, panicked.
Everyone halted, and listened.
But there was nothing.
“Calm your nervous ass!” The King yelled at you.
“I heard something,” you insisted.
The King rolled his shoulders back, eyeing the progress on the wall. “Probably a rat. If it’s anything else, Katsuko will let us know.”
Your ax felt numb in your hands. You stood there, petrified. You knew you heard something, but everyone else went back to work, swinging at the stone. Prickled flesh ran up your arms, your shoulders, your neck.
Nothing but silence.
Then a deaf defying screech pierced through the air as a large blue dragon jumped out from a deep crack from within the wall. It launched itself onto Katsuko, and everything went to chaos. The torches went out. The roars and screams of the dragons bombarded the tunnel as they tumbled and rolled over one another, their fight illuminated only by the breaths of fire they were spitting at one another.
You heard Midoriya from afar, but you couldn’t find him.
“My lady! My lady!”
“Midoriya!” you called back, trying to run towards the voice, but then the large thwack of a tail came from somewhere above, forcing you to duck and cover our head as rock rained down. When you felt it stop, you got up and went to keep running, the sounds of the dragon fight still lively behind you.
Before you could even take a step, something hit you strongly in the chest, knocking all the air out of your lungs. Another thwack of a dragon tail. It sent you flying into a wall, its impact strong.
And then, black.
You didn’t know how long you were asleep. All you knew is that you blinked your eyes open, only to find that you still couldn’t see. Everything was black, your chest hurt like hell, and when you took your first breath, a sharp pain shot up from its right side. As you layed there, on the ground, face cloth lost somewhere in the struggle, you pinched your eyes shut and focused on breathing slow and even, hand naturally clutching the place of injury. You could feel the metal of your chestplate, now dented and digging into you.
“Help,” you whimpered, desperately hoping someone could hear you. But you heard no voices, no footsteps, and the sound of the dragon fight was long gone.
How long has it been?
Clenching your teeth, knowing it was going to be a bitch, you shot yourself up, immediately crying out from pain.
But you had to move. So you felt around you, thankfully finding a wall. You leaned against it for support, pulling yourself up, the sharp pain stabbing you from the inside. Sweat poured freely from your body, your forehead utterly slick with it as you just stayed there for a moment, focusing on your breath before you took one step. Two.
“Midoriya,” you tried calling out, the sound of you bouncing down the tunnels, but nothing came back.
What happened to him? To the others? Did they get blocked off from the fight? Crushed by the falling rock? Or did the dragons…?
You swallowed down your agony. You could not dwell over the fate of your poor knight. Not now. Now you had to figure out what to do.
You didn’t know where to go. You couldn’t even see , but you knew you couldn’t stay. Not when a dragon could come by any minute. You remembered, Musouka’s nest was the farthest one on the map. Depending which side you ended up on, you would either be heading towards the exit or heading deeper into the cave, into untrodden territory.
“Fuck,” you groaned, anguished over your predicament.
Sending a quick prayer to the old gods, you began your journey into the darkness, alone. Thankfully, besides your chest and the throbbing bump on your head, you felt fine, so you stumbled your way down, keeping a hand along the wall and your ears open for any sign of life.
You don’t know how long you spent walking, as time seemed endless in the caves. Five minutes could’ve been thirty. Thirty minutes could’ve just been five. The only hint of time you had was the soreness of your feet and the all-over ache of your body.
You wondered what your father would say, if he could see you now. Would he scold you for being stupid? For ever going into a dragon cave to begin with? Would he disown you for ever stepping foot in the Southlands? Perhaps, if things turned more sinister, you would know soon enough.
A sickening crunch halted your thoughts, and you froze, listening.
Let it be a footstep, let it be one of the others .
But then a low growl rumbled through the night, soft and slow, like the creaking of a mill. It crushed your hopes and filled them with terror.
Goosebumps ran up your flesh as your breath quickened. The thrumming pain of your ribs seemed to echo the beat of your heart as you could feel the strong pulse of your blood racing through your veins.
You reached for your sword, but paused.
Only a fool would dare to slay a dragon when they're in the belly of its lair.
And then you could finally see again as the dragon opened its jaw, a dim ball of light starting to brew within it. You could see the outline of its teeth, just as big as the skeleton you saw eons ago. As the fire grew, rumbling deep with the dragon’s throat, more was illuminated for you; the beady eyes staring directly at you, the blue scales glimmering into green.
“You must be Musouka,” was all you were able to say, coming to the conclusion that this was your fate.
The dragon released a sizzling exhale, hot ghastly air steaming out of its nostrils and onto your face and hair. It gave another low rumble, as if agreeing with you.
The rumbling began to crank up, growing louder as the jaw was released more, fire growing brighter as the full, monstrously beautiful face of Musouka was revealed, her fire reflecting in her eyes as she inched closer to you, sharp claws digging through the earth.
Yes, I am Musouka, mother dragon to be, you imagined her saying.
And you are a stranger in my home.
As you closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable, a soft melody seemed to echo from somewhere beyond. You thought it was a part of your imagination, that your mind was simply conjuring up a sweet, distant mirage before you faced a gruesome death.
But then you felt Musouka cock her head to the side, listening as well. The silkened words grew closer, more present.
When you felt her finally looked away, you opened your eyes, and you were glad you did, because you would’ve never believed it if you hadn’t.
Blonde hair peeked from within the soft glow of his own torch flame, crimson eyes reflecting its ferocity as the Dragon King stepped up, bringing Musouka’s attention fully on him.
He didn’t seem scared as he sang his sweet song. He seemed calm, confident, and strong. He stood his ground as Musouka drew near, and it was like his honeyed words only grew more powerful as she did so.
The blood of the dragon…
The fire in the King’s eyes seemed to match Musouka’s completely, the only proof of the invisible string connecting them. The song was so hypnotic, it felt like it would never end. An endless song of beauty that could never be broken, like the bond between a dragon and its rider.
It is magic. It must be, you thought.
But as endless as the song felt, Musouka suddenly turned her head away from the King and from you. She went up to another deep crack within the wall. She folded her wings and flattened herself before scurrying inside the broken rock, sharp tail slithering away and disappearing with her.
You felt the magic disappear, broken for good, and your senses returned to you as you begrudgingly stood up straight, feeling the throb of your knees, shaking.
You were now alone with the King. A heavy silence passed through the both of you as you worked on regaining your nerve.
“Thank you for that.”
The King grunted, as if it were no big deal. “You okay?”
You found yourself nodding, “Yea-Yes. I’m fine. I think I have a broken rib, but that’s the worst of it. Thank you, again.”
His eyes seemed to wonder over you, checking for himself. They simmered over you head-to-toe, making you shiver under its gravity. Then they lingered over your damaged chestplate.
“Here,” he spoke quietly, moving to undo it for you. You grabbed his torch for him, as he worked to undo the clasps, freeing you from the literal weight on your shoulders as the warmth of his proximity brushed your skin.
Feeling your cheeks flared, you stumbled for a distraction. "H-How did you find me?"
"Told ya', didn't I?" He carefully guided the plate over your head, granting your freedom, as he met your curious eyes. "I know these caves like the back of my hand."
Cheeks flared again once he reminded you.
Of course he knew where to go. He was the Dragon King.
“Let’s go,” he said gruffly, stepping away and taking the torch from you and handing back your chestplate in return.
Before you could even ponder over the lost proximity, he grabbed your free hand and started dragging you away.
He led you through the dark, and feeling just utterly helpless and out of your depth, you let him, putting all of your trust and dependency on the Dragon King as he guided you through the caves, occasionally halting to listen, occasionally pulling you left and right on a random notice.
And perhaps because your mind was tired and numb and you finally felt a sense of safety again, but your thoughts began to wander, fading into faint dreams of the stories you grew up with, of the Blacksmith and the Queen. Perhaps the Blacksmith got lost in the caves the first time around and the Dragon Queen had to rescue him, just like this. You imagined that this was how their friendship was formed, with trust being put into one another and the threat of death waking them up from their ignorant and childish feud. Maybe this was how the idea of the Bridge came to be…
Through the rush of being pulled this way and that, and your mind being lost in its fruitless thoughts, the rustling in your ears came forefront. The sound of the whispering trees bending violently in the wind, their words growing louder…
A broken oath…
A dragon only knows greed…
What do they know of honor …
“Head in the clouds and ears in the trees," your father's voice whispered.
You reached fresh air, and you found yourself gasping for it greatly. The muffledness of your mind faded away, making everything clear the more you breathed. You hardly even noticed Ser Midoriya fretting over you, his mouth moving in frantic motions you couldn’t hear nor decipher. You did however see the tear tracks staining his cheeks.
“She’s got a broken rib,” you heard the King say behind you, his voice low and close. “We should take her to the maester.”
A blanket was pulled over your shoulders, and you realized then that, you two weren’t holding hands anymore as the palm that was once in his now felt cool and naked. You tried to make up for the strange feeling of vulnerability by rubbing your palm against the blanket, willing it to go away.
How silly, you thought. Escaping into dreamland and fretting over his touch while he was just saving you.
“Oi! Dunce Face!”
You turned just in time to see the King grab onto Lord Kaminari, holding him up by the collar. “Why the hell didn’t you ring the bells?!”
“I did Your Grace! I was ringing thrm the whole time!” Kaminari screamed, holding his hands up in front of him in mercy. “Something must’ve happened to the rope.”
It occured to you quickly.
“Katsuko," your voice croaked.
Both Kaminari and the King paused to look at you.
You cleared your throat, speaking again. “It must’ve broken off when he swung his tail.”
Realization dawned on the King’s face, as Kaminari slipped away from his grasp, retreating.
"Did… did you at least get any blackstone?" The lord asked hopefully.
You looked towards everyone you went into the caves with.
Midoriya looked down, defeated.
Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
And the King… The King looked ready to kill.
You don't know what came over you. Maybe you were coming down from the highs of what happened, maybe you were just overwhelmed with the relief of being alive, or maybe you simply found the irony out of the situation, but you started to laugh; small giggles that bubbled out of your mouth soon became full-on laughter that hurt to do, but broken ribbed be damned. You couldn’t help it and you certainly couldn't stop it.
Everybody stared at you, not sure of what to do or how to read your reaction.
You finally calmed down, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Well, Your Grace. If you wanted to prove the value of your people's work, you needn’t go to such extremes.”
The King simply looked at you, dumbfounded by your reaction.
You sighed, feeling tired and ready to go to bed.
“I would've believed you, if you simply told me,” you told him quietly, a smile on your face as Ser Midoriya guided you to one of the tents.
“Wait.”
You stopped and looked back, waiting for the King to say what he needed to.
“How’d you know to wear it?” He looked down at the chestplate, which was now in Midoriya’s grasp.
You looked at it briefly for a moment, the fox that was now covered in soot. Unsure of what to say, you looked back up at Midoriya, seeing the look of warning in his eye, his words from before coming into mind.
" If you ask about it, he'll deny it, m'lady. Kachaan thinks it makes him look superstitious…"
You looked back up at the King, and shrugged innocently.
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.
Jason could tell you thought he was overreacting about the new place. The double -triple- locks on the door, the guns strategically placed in the drawers, the panic button inside your nightstand, and closet, and bathroom. Even the trackers sewed into your clothes.
He could tell, you thought it was too much, and maybe if he lived the life you had he would've thought the same.
But the truth is, Jason's never had someone he could depend on before. Someone he could collapse into, relax into. Someone he could feel warm with, be with. And everytime Jason's ever come close to having it, the rug was always pulled from under him.
So, yeah.
And, he could also tell that you understood. You understand why he does it and why he might seemed stressed over it. And even though when you walk through the door and there's a look on your face as you see him fiddling with some new high-tech security system (not WayneTech, his own system thanks), it melts away into a smile and you greet him and you make everything feel like home again.
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/? (20,590words)
AO3 Link
Chapter One Chapter Three
Some translations for this chapter: Musouka = "dreamer". Shi no Hikaru = *roughly* translates to "death's light" (I actually got a few things for this one, so if anyone notices a booboo, feel free to let me know lol)
Chapter Two: Victory (4.4k)
“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.”
Katsuki watched you walk away, nothing but the sound of your footsteps echoing down the hall. Eyes wide, he willed his mouth to speak, commanded it to. But he couldn't come up with anything.
All he could feel was this simmering sense of rage.
The doors creaked open slowly, and he saw the tiny dot of you walk through them, gone.
“The hell…?!” Katsuki finally choked out. He turned his anger towards Denki. “You said northern women were frigid!”
“That’s what I was told, Your Grace!” Kaminari squeaked back, holding up his hands in surrender.
Katsuki growled, slamming a fist against the armrest of his throne. Whatever he was told of the North, he had a sinking feeling that none of it was true. Katsuki was told that a northerner's face could've been made out of stone for how little they use it. How they did nothing but hide away in furs and watch snow fall, and melt, and then fall again. How their blood ran like ice, giving them all of the liveliness of a corpse.
All of those comments originated from his castellan.
The dunce face. Katsuki should've known it was horseshit.
Your eyes, full of heat as you preached about duty and honor…
Well, at least that part about northerners was true.
Katsuki launched himself out of his seat, still feeling the afterburn of your words. He placed his sword back in its sheath. It shined as he did so, the golden surface trapping light like a web, waiting for the time to kill.
Katsuki started for his own exit. "Meeting. Now .”
That was all the King had to say for Lord Kaminari to break away, ordering the guards to track down the rest of the King’s councilmen.
“Your Grace!”
Like he knew he was being summoned, Sero Hanta approached, giving a small bow. “How did the talk with the lady go?”
Katsuki growled as an answer, refusing to stop in favor of getting to the war room.
“I take it not well…” He heard the man mutter behind him, quickly following along with Denki.
People rushed to bow and curtsy as he passed by, but Katsuki paid them no mind, instead thinking about how he wished his Hand was there. Eijirou would’ve made a good barrier between you two. No doubt Shitty Hair's cheerfulness would've charmed you, and his collective knowledge of North would’ve impressed compared to the empty-headedness of Dunce Face. However, with you arriving earlier than expected, and shit raining down in the dragon caves, a switch had to be made last minute. Which reminded him…
“Any updates on the dragons yet?!” Katsuki barked behind him.
“Lord Kirishima was able to calm them down,” Lord Hanta informed him. “He should be on his way back now.”
“Good,” he grumbled.
Katsuki approached the war room, the two guards standing by immediately opening the doors for him.
The balcony on the opposite end greeted him. He felt his hair move with a nearby breeze as he listened to the clear ocean waves, the pull back of the water and the crash when it came back in, smashing into the deathly sharp rocks that cluttered the shoreline. The pungent smell of smoke carried through, its source coming from the dragon caves that lived just a bit beyond. Fresh sticks of incense were regularly lit around the castle to mask it, but Katsuki always found that, if anything, they just added to it. Sharp smoke intertwined with burnt caramel and fresh jasmine, creating its own brand of scent Katsuki secretly labeled as home .
He breathed it in, then exhaled, his shoulders relaxing with it.
He always felt more comfortable in the War Room than anywhere else in the castle.
Katsuki sat himself at the head of the table, unsheathing his sword once again so he could do so. Its glimmer returned tenfold now that it was surrounded by sunlight. Katsuki took a moment to admire it before setting it down, keeping a firm grasp on the handle the entire time, unwilling to let go of the very thing that saved his life over and over again.
Sero and Denki quickly followed with their own respective seats, and Katsuki found himself lazily lounging with his feet up on the table, a show of impatience as he waited for the others.
Lord Tenya suddenly appeared, in such a swift manner that no one even heard the door open. "Your Grace! I must once again ask that you do not put your feet on the table! It is very unbecoming of a king-"
"Pipe down, Four Eyes, and sit your ass down."
Tenya immediately obeyed, yet he took the time to cross his arms as his own show of rebellion, annoyed at how once again, the King ignored his plea for decent manners.
Next came Shinsou Hitoshi, who slinked into the war room without a word, hearing nothing but the creak of the door, the latch catching with a small click. He carried this silence to his chair, sitting down before propping an elbow on the table, holding his head in his palm.
Finally, Shinsou decided to speak. "So, I take it the meeting with Kokorishi didn't go well?"
Sero nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking-”
"It wasn’t that bad-"
"Shut up," Katsuki growled. "Wait until everyone is here, dammit!"
Every broken protocol he and his advisors made always reached back to court. People would use it as leverage, complaining about how little they knew of politics, of running the country.
Of him being king.
"Green, the lot of you! What do you know of being a king, huh boy?! You dream of bringing back the Age of Dragons, of ruling the skies, the sea, and every bit of land in between… An age of glory, yes, but an age well past… Why risk killing yourself over something already dead?"
Katsuki thought the whispers would cease once they won the war, and if not, surely once he was crowned. But the voices only grew, as if he and his friends didn't risk their lives for these, extras.
The very thought made Katsuki rage.
What do they know of victory?
The doors opened once more, interrupting his thoughts. Unlike other times, this entrance was loud and clear, Lady Mina coming in with a smile on her face.
“Finally!” Denki groaned, holding up an empty chalice. “I’ve been sitting with an empty cup forever, Minaaa…” He flipped it upside down for emphasis.
“You’ve been here for five minutes,” Sero told him.
“I know! I know! Hold on, will you!” Lady Mina waved them off, making haste towards the pitcher delicately placed on one of the side tables. She went to Katsuki first, dipping into a small curtsy.
“Blasty,” she said with her head down.
Katsuki flinched at the old nickname, growling as his hand went to block his cup. “I’m King, dammit! Treat me as such!”
Lady Mina redid the curtsy. “King Blasty.”
Katsuki snarled before begrudgingly deciding it wasn’t worth the time. He removed his hand so that the lady could pour. Afterwards, she started making her way around the table.
“I had to make sure our guest was settled in her room. Hence, my late arrival,” Mina explained, casting a look towards the King while Denki quietly urged her to fill his cup.
"Please, Mina. I think it's gonna be a long one…"
Katsuki didn’t react. He couldn’t care less if the northern lady was comfortable. She could either take what was given, or she could deal with it.
The door opened for a final time, this time in a polite and humble manner. Lord Eijirou Kirishima walked in, covered in soot from head to toe. He also reeked of dragon, the stench of fire and beast clinging to his armor. He bowed at the King, then greeted everyone else with a wave of his hand. “Sorry I’m late!”
“‘S fine,” Katsuki mumbled, nodding towards the open seat on his right. “Let’s just get started.”
Everyone settled as the meeting finally began.
To Katsuki’s left, Lord Shinsou Hitoshi, his Master of Whispers. Next to him, Lord Denki Kaminari, his Master of Coin. Then Lord Iida Tenya, his Master of Laws.
The empty seat across from the lord held an odd sort of chill, a ghost of a presence waiting to be filled. It was meant for the Master of War, but Katsuki insisted on taking that position himself, believing that a true king leads his army personally (and yet, the decision only led to another criticism from the old goats.)
Next to that cold spot, however, was Lord Sero Hanta, his Master of Ships. And then finally, Lord Eijirou Kirishima, the Hand of the King, dutifully on his right side while Lady Mina stood in the background, ready to fill cups and speak her mind whenever she deemed necessary.
Katsuki turned towards his Hand. “Did we figure out why the dragons snapped?”
Ei nodded. “It was Musouka. In fact, it was only Musouka.”
“Huh?” Katsuki asked. Musouka was a gentle spirit. Very rarely did they have problems with her. What caused her to act out?
Eijirou shrugged. “Don’t know. The dragon handlers said she was fine, then out of nowhere, rahh!” He mimicked a dragon breathing fire, causing a few snickers from Sero and Denki
Katsuki rolled his eyes, unamused. He won’t tell the group, but that secretly bothered him. He knew his dragons, and Musouka never acted out. The fact that she did so just when your ship docked…
“Anybody hurt?” Katsuki asked.
“Two handlers got burned. We escorted them to the maester, but they said it wasn’t too severe. They should be fine.”
“Good.” Katsuki nodded.
“So…” Sero drawled. “Are we going to talk about the North?”
Denki tried to defend. “The meeting went fine-”
“It went crap,” Katsuki interrupted.
“It wasn’t that bad- ”
“She said I wasn’t a man!” Katsuki fumed, his free hand balling into a fist.
“She said if you didn’t help out the North, you wouldn’t be a man,” Denki pointed out.
“Same thing!”
“Huh." Eijiro scratched his chin thoughtfully. "The North is known for being very proud, Your Grace."
Shinsou nodded. “They also just lost their own war, so they're probably desperate.”
"Even more of a reason to throw them out,” Katsuki grumbled. “Why should I form an alliance with someone who loses?”
Lord Tenya spoke up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Even with the North's recent loss, we cannot pretend that an alliance wouldn’t be helpful to your reign, Your Grace. If anything, simply because they oppose the West.”
Eijirou nodded vigorously with excitement. “If we can get them to support your claim as king, we might also be able to convince the East!”
“Why should I care what they think, huh?! I didn’t need their support during the war, and I don’t need it now!” Katsuki barked, pissed at the idea of needing help.
“Having their support would make the West less likely to rise up against you,” Shinsou told him.
Katsuki smirked dangerously, his grip on his sword tightening. “I’d like to see them try.”
“The objective is to avoid war, Blasty,” Lady Mina said, going around the table once again for refills. “An alliance with the North would promote peace.”
“Also, repairing one of the greatest political relationships in history?” Sero added. “That’ll be a very good look for you.”
"Plus, we could forge blackstone again!” Denki cheered. “With the North’s blacksmiths, and our dragon-taming skills, it’ll be a breeze.”
Katsuki growled, still not convinced. “How do we know their blacksmiths are still up to task? It’s been decades since they worked with blackstone.”
“Still better than us,” Sero mumbled into his cup, their poor attempt of a throne coming to mind.
“How do we know they’ll keep their word?” Katsuki went on.
“The North will, Your Grace,” His Hand assured them. “They are very honorable people.”
“Preaching it and being it isn’t the same,” Katsuki argued.
Shinsou sighed. “His Grace makes a fair point. Even if we had the North’s word, we would need more than that, and something binding if we want it to last...”
A strong gust of wind passed through, and the smokey-sweet smell of the room breezed along with it. The sound of the waves returned once more, accompanied by the screeching of seagulls, and if one listened closely, the faint roar of a dragon…
And then Ei, holding his chin in deep thought, asked tentatively, “The lady spoke in place of her brother… right?”
Katsuki felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, a feeling that only occurred to him in battle.
Where was this going…
Shinsou nodded. “Her elder brother is making his journey back north. The path involves him crossing through the mudlands which, I’ve been told, is tedious.”
“I said no, dammit!” Katsuki yelled with finality.
“Your Grace…” Lady Mina began, serious, if she was actually using his title. “You promised. After the war, you would think about heirs.”
“Heirs. Not marriage,” he seethed.
“You really want the Age of Dragons to continue without your bloodline?” Sero questioned.
“I’m still young, dammit. I’m not going anywhere,” Katsuki told them.
“Still, you never know what the gods have planned, Your Grace,” Denki warned. “You could be riding on Katsuko one day and then all of the sudden-” he whistled, mimicking the sound of him falling through the air before collapsing into the earth.
That just made Katsuki scowl. He’s been riding dragons since he was a child. He wasn’t going to fall off.
“We also can’t ignore that your insistence on commanding the army yourself leaves you in a vulnerable position every time we go to war, Your Grace,” said Tenya.
Katsuki’s scowl deepened. He was always in a vulnerable position during wartime. He was the King.
“I was able to talk to her for a bit!” Lady Mina chimed in. “She seems smart, strong, and she’s pretty -”
Katsuki grunted, doubtful. The lady showed up looking as if she came on dragonback herself, hair wild from the wind, green in the face, wearing that ridiculous northern attire…
“Plus, it was the Kokorishi family that made your sword! Eh?” Ei nudged him encouragingly, and Katsuki felt the grip on his sword tighten once more, knuckles becoming white as the metal dug into his palm
Eijirou went on, oblivious of Katsuki's annoyance. "Shi no Hikaru, one of the most famous blades ever . Melted with dragon fire, crafted by the Great Blacksmith himself-”
“Don’t lecture me about my sword,” Katsuki mumbled, standing up to leave.
That was the final straw.
Everyone stood up with him before he shouted over his shoulder, commanding them not to follow. “I’m going to the training grounds!”
He really needed to slash something.
*****
It was just his luck that when he got there, so was the Deku, pathetically swinging his little toothpick sword on a practice dummy.
Everyone immediately bowed towards the King. Everyone but him. He paid no mind to Katsuki at all, obliviously continuing his training.
“OI! HAVEN’T YOU MET A KING BEFORE?” Katsuki shouted, causing the boy to stumble and drop his sword.
Deku whipped around, frantically bending at the knee once his eyes met the King. “Your Grace! I didn’t see you-”
“And I see you’re still worthless,” said Katsuki, descending the steps so that they could meet on ground level.
Deku stood tall. “I’m a knight now-”
Katsuki barked out a laugh. “And you’re an insult to all of ‘em. Why the old man of the North knighted you, I will never understand.” He grabbed onto the shrimp’s shirt, hoisting him into the air. “And naming you sworn protector on top of that. Old fool must've not cared for his daughter…”
He felt a tap on his shoulder.
Katsuki looked over and found you, glaring at him with intense anger.
“Let my knight go,” you seethed.
Katsuki smirked, humored by your nerve. Of course, he wasn’t actually going to do anything. You were a guest after all.
But you certainly didn’t need to know that.
He took the time the glance over you, noting your change of attire. No longer did you wear the heavy northern gear, but a light cotton shirt and breeches, like a man. Your hair was roughly braided back, away from your face.
You were, what? On your way to the stables?
Either way, Katsuki saw an opportunity in your presence. He could settle this deal his way.
“Tell ya’ what, Lady." He let Deku go, allowing him to collapse on the ground. "We settle this through combat.”
Katsuki pointed his chin towards Deku. "Me against him, and if you win, I’ll supply the North for winter-"
"And if I lose?" you interrupted skeptically. "You're just going to let my people starve?"
"'Course not. I'll still do it." Katsuki grumbled, but then he smiled, looking ferociously smug as he set the hook. "But you have to forge blackstone for the South for ten years, and the North has to swear fealty to me ."
You hesitated, nervously biting your lip. You looked around the grounds, eyeing all of the men who stopped to hear the King’s challenge. "You make this vow, in front of all of your men as well as mine?"
Katsuki’s smile grew, taking pleasure in saying, "'Course I do. I'm a man of honor, afterall..."
You continued to bite your lip, looking up at the sky, down at the ground, anywhere but him. Katsuki knew he had you then…
Your lord brother would disown you if the North bent the knee to yet another king. And with your recent loss in battle, the North's dignity was hanging by a thread. Yet if you refuse, what good would that be for your people?
You’ll also be a hypocrite , Katsuki noted. For what good is it to insult his manhood, when you won’t even let your own knight fight?
You should submit and accept the shame. Katsuki would win. No use dooming your House in the process-
"Fine. On one condition."
"Eh?” Katsuki leaned back, surprised by your decision. “And what's that?"
You crossed your arms, your own sly grin smearing across your face. "You fight me instead."
Murmurs could be heard throughout the grounds. Armor creaked as fellow knights turned towards one another, buzzing the air as a result of your words.
“M’lady-” Deku scrambled to get up.
“Hah!” Katsuki barked. “You’re on.”
And so you both turned around and walked to your respective corners. As Katsuki took off his cape, he peeked over his shoulder to see Deku quietly urging you not to fight, to let him do it.
“Please, m’lady! It’s my duty…”
But you must’ve ignored him, because when Katsuki turned back around and walked towards the center, you did as well, your sword the same size as your knight’s.
Katsuki smirked again. This was going to be easy…
And it was just in that moment, when you were both in position, feet ready as you held up your swords, his blinding and yours too small, that he saw the small pendant that laid upon your chest, its snow-white color and curvaceous shape somehow catching his eye. A white fox.
Your House’s sigil.
Katsuki ignored it and took the first swing. You evaded it, and so he tried again, hoping you would keep evading long enough so that he could back you into a corner.
And you did. You would step, twist, and duck through any move he made. You kept backing up, and he kept pushing forward. He nearly had you pressed up against the wall when he blinked and, suddenly, you were gone. Katsuki felt his feet fall out from under him, and before he knew it, he was on the ground. Before he could kick back up, your boot was on his chest, and you were pointing your little toothpick at the King, as if it was supposed to scare him.
"Best two out of three?" You smiled down at him.
Katsuki let out a sound of rage, standing up, and you backed towards the center as they prepared for the next round.
A fox. He should've known you would act like one...
They started again, this time your sword tinked against his blows, and every time you would circle around him, causing him to keep turning himself around to attack you. After a while of the dance, Katsuki had enough. With a yell, he swung angrily behind him, successfully predicting your next move and hitting your sword right out of your hand.
You cried in pain, holding your wrist, while Katsuki just stared down at the stick on the ground.
"Huh. Surprised I didn't break it," he bragged, rolling his shoulders back.
You sneered up at him, still clutching your wrist.
Katsuki pointed it out. "Looks sprained. Guess you can't use your sword anymore."
You scoffed before picking up your sword with your other hand. "I'm fine."
You held it up. "Let's go."
Katsuki smiled, satisfied that you were giving it your all instead of fighting like a wimp, like how some people try to do when they're up against the King.
He held up his own sword once again, ready to win.
Surprisingly, you made the first move this time, moving just as fast as you did before, your strikes carrying the same energy as when you were using your dominant hand. And Katsuki would never admit it, but the switched sides threw him off a bit. He had to adapt to where you were going to strike, but he soon picked up the pattern and did it with ease. He was able to knock away your sword again. Once you were weaponless, he grabbed you by the shirt, holding his sword up against your neck and, victory...
Yet as he lightly pressed his blade against your neck, he felt a small prick against his.
Without moving, he looked down, finding a small blade in your sprained hand.
He looked back up. You were smiling, wild and crazed, eyes shining bright with the reflection of his blade and your own joy that you got one over him.
"A draw," you beamed breathlessly, and Katsuki could feel the heat of your body, the sweat beading down your temples and hairline, traveling down your jaw, your neck, your chest. And right in front of him as clear as day, that little fox pendant, mocking him.
"What do we do now?" you ask.
Katsuki wordlessly let you go, thinking. It wasn't long for your knight to scurry up to you, frantically asking, "Are you alright, m'lady? How's your wrist? We should wrap it, get some ice-"
"I'm fine, ser," you brushed him off, still waiting for the King to answer. When he still didn't give one, you shrugged impatiently. "So?"
Katsuki returned his sword back into his sheath, still holding the handle. "The South will help provide the North for winter. We'll send shipments directly to Kokorishi, and you can distribute to the other Houses of the North however you see fit." He pierced you with a glare. "But everyone should get something. If I find you cheating your people, the deal's off."
"Of course! We would never do that," you objected.
Katsuki shrugged. "So people say. But the truth is, Lady, I don't know you and you don't know me. I'm sure you've heard plenty horror stories about the South…"
You looked down at the ground, your knight still fretting over your wrist, somehow coming up with strips of cloth so he could wrap it…
Your silence was confirmation that he was right.
Katsuki continued. "In return, the North will help us forge blackstone once winter is over, along with the return of any food crates that haven't been used."
"And for how long will you expect our services?" you asked.
"Just for the season, unless your lord brother wants to extend it. I'll discuss that with him once he reaches your homeland."
You nodded, satisfied with the arrangement. "Fine. On behalf of the North, House Kokorishi accepts the terms."
Deku finished wrapping your wrist, and you took the opportunity to step forward, offering your good hand to the King.
Katsuki stared at it for the moment, catching the coarseness of the palm and knuckles, a result of your swordplay. And Katsuki could practically hear Lady Mina teasing him now.
Not exactly the hand of a traditional lady, is it?
Katsuki released his hold on his sword and accepted your hand, his own completely covering yours with ease, and for a brief moment, you looked faint.
You shimmied your hand out of his grasp quickly. You cleared your throat, "Good. I expect a contract to be written up?"
The King nodded, still looking down at you, wondering why you acted that way. "My Master of Laws will work on it. He'll deliver it to you once it's done."
You nodded again, and to his surprise, you gave a slight bow to him. "Thank you, Dragon King. The North is grateful for your aid."
And maybe it was out of curiosity or a sense of goodwill, but Katsuki asked if you were going to leave.
You looked up at him, confused. "Is our business not done?"
Katsuki huffed. "If we're gonna forge blackstone again, I want the North to know exactly what we do. Your people may be the only ones able to craft it, but my people are the only ones who can get it ."
He took a step towards you, commanding you to, "Stay."
You looked uncertain, so Katsuki explained it to you. "We do it right this time. Both sides learn about the other's work. Both sides respect the other's work. We reform our relationship, and in return, our alliance."
You nodded, understanding. "Fine, Dragon King. I can do that. But how long do you expect me to stay?"
Well, if his advisors had it their way, forever. But Katsuki wouldn't dare seal his fate that quickly.
"As long as we both see fit," he told you instead. "In the meantime, your status as guest remains. You can roam, visit the city if you wish. Might even learn a thing or two…"
Everyone stood at attention when the King began to leave, even, to his surprise, Deku.
But not you. You just stood there, staring back at him curiously.
And perhaps it was how you carried yourself in front of him, how you held your own in combat, or your obvious passion for your people, your undying need to defend them…
Tags: romance, fluff, aged-up characters, flashbacks, no beta
Summary: Something about names really bothers you. And Katsuki's been waiting to call you this one for a while now...
AO3 LINK
main series
“Oh, for the love of- someone help her!” Kaminari cried exasperatedly.
Katsuki’s eyes immediately landed on you, perched on a bar stool with your nose buried in a book thicker than Dunce Face’s head.
Kaminari gestured at you helplessly. “I mean, seriously. Who brings a book to a bar?”
Jirou snorted. “It’s Y/N. What did you expect?”
“Yeah, but even Todoroki is having fun!”
They all looked to the opposite end of the bar where, of course, Half n’ Half was chatting it up with Ponytail, making you seem more like a stick in the mud than usual.
“Someone needs to do something,” Kaminari decided, suddenly standing up with determination.
“Really? You sure you wanna do that?” Sero warned. “Remember last time.”
The memory of their class trip to the mall came to mind. You brought a book then too, and when you decided to sit yourself in the food court to read rather than shop, Kaminari had the bright idea of snatching it from you.
“For her own good,” he had said.
You nearly broke his wrist. Then, you started wailing and screaming about how inappropriate he was to do that. How dare this no-good-dumbass-spark-boy try to take your property?!
You scolded Dunce Face till he cried.
Of course, Katsuki could’ve warned him against it. He knew from his time with you in the library that getting you to drop a book was practically impossible. Katsuki lost count of the number of times he sat in a chair, aggravatingly waiting so they could train. But you wouldn't even look up. Instead, you chose to ignore him completely. It wasn't long before Katsuki started to do annoying shit; kicking you underneath the table, tossing paper at your face, grumbling loudly under his breath about the bookworm that sat in front of him.
"One more chapter, hothead. I promise," you would say, with that stupid braindead face you get everytime you read. Katsuki swore he saw you drooling.
But unlike everyone else, Katsuki had the talent of really getting under your skin, and he quickly found that the other thing you two have in common is your temper.
"You said that two chapters ago, nerd."
Oh, that got you to look up. Something about names really bothered you, and it wasn't long before you combusted, ranting and raging like a lunatic while Katsuki fought back.
“Who’re you calling nerd, you spikey-haired-loud-mouthed-little-bitch-boy?!?!” you snapped back at him.
“HUH?! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!” Katsuki raged.
They got banned pretty quick. Naturally, you were pissed about that too. But any thought of reading left your mind, dead set on making Katsuki pay for his rudeness on the mat.
Kirishima told him once that watching you two fight was like watching a monster truck rally. Destruction everywhere, in the most entertaining way. And Katsuki had to agree. Seeing you angry, your face all twisted and heated as you tried to beat the living shit out of him… it was fun as hell.
And since then, the dance between you two has only improved, as refined as the glass of wine that now sat in front of you, ignored in favor of your book.
Katsuki marched over to you with gusto. He heard his friends call out to him in confusion, but he ignored them, instead choosing to plop down on the bar stool next to yours. You didn’t even lift your head, but it didn’t matter. He knew that you noticed him.
“Oi, Jewels,” Katsuki growled, his voice rumbling deep with the nickname he knew you liked.
Your ears perked up, but you still didn’t move.
“You’re being annoying,” he continued.
That got your attention. Your head suddenly shot up, your eyebrows disappearing into your hairline.
“Excuse me?!” you yelped, turning towards him. “I’m being annoying?! How?! I’m just reading.”
“Yeah, and it’s bugging the hell out of everyone. So stop,” he told you.
You glared at him loathingly, piercing Katsuki with those jewel-eyes of yours. A sign of your quirk. Katsuki had to admit, those eyes could kill. He’s seen men tremble with fear at the sight of them, frantically bowing their heads with apologies because how dare they make their presence known while you were reading.
Katsuki just rolled his eyes. He couldn’t give two shits about those damn gems of yours. He knew there was more to you than that.
“Am I bugging everyone, or am I just bugging you?” you challenged, eyes shimmering against the bar light.
Katsuki looked at your scrunched up nose, at your twisted up mouth. Your entire face was pinched, tight.
Everyone liked to watch your eyes so much that they missed the other parts of your face. The ones that showed how ugly you were when you were pissed.
And Katsuki knew what was going to happen next. You’ll go on and on about how you're not annoying. How you're actually the last thing from it. If anything, he’s being the annoying one. Him, with his narcissistic attitude, thinking you’ll drop everything just ‘cause he called you annoying.
Yap, yap, yap…
Blah, blah blah…
You’ll make the face, Katsuki will watch, and the book will sit there, ignored.
And then he’ll win.
He couldn’t help but smirk at the sight.
You raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “What? Why are you smiling like that?”
The rest of your face was still semi-twisted. Your fuse was halfway there. You just needed one more push.
“Aw, it’s nothing.” Katsuki replied, already gloating triumphantly. He looked down at you, staring back into those stupid little gem eyes. “Lemon Face.”
You blinked once, then twice. “Wha- What?”
“Ya’ heard me, Lemon Face,” he said it again.
Your face went slack, going into a blank stupor.
Katsuki waited patiently, bracing himself for impact.
You snorted. An ugly, joyful sound that caused him to jolt.
“Have… Have you been talking to my dad?” you asked amusingly.
“Wha’?” Katsuki responded, confused and deflated.
Your dad?
A small smile lifted your face.
Wait. What?!
“He makes fun of me all the time for my lemon face,” you went on, chuckling before going into, what Katsuki assumed to be, an impression of your father. “Relax your face, dear. Otherwise, it would stay that way.” You rolled your eyes. “Little does he know, he makes the same face whenever he gets pissed.”
You looked at him expectedly, but Katsuki had no idea what to say. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. For all the time you two spent together, you’ve never talked about your family. You weren’t one to really talk about yourself in general, and that was perfectly fine with him. Katsuki didn’t like to talk about shit either. You two always had the notion that actions speak louder than words. It was what he respected about you.
“I know I make it. The face, I mean,” you explained before propping your elbow up on the bar, letting your cheek rest against your palm casually. “I’m surprised it took you this long to say something. I figured it’d be one of the first things you’d latch onto, seeing how you like to tease me so much.”
Of course he didn’t. ‘Cause then you’d try to stop doing it.
Katsuki blinked and before he knew it, you were turned away, nose buried back in that book.
Hgh!
Surprised anger caused him to choke. What the hell happened?! Why weren’t you pissed?!
You always took the bait. Always.
“Oi, Lemon Face,” he tried again. “Don’t just act like I’m not here!”
“Wha?- I tried talking to you!” you argued, not bothering to turn around. “You weren’t saying anything back! Jeez…”
You waved him off.
Katsuki fumed with rage, his own fuse sizzling down, becoming dangerously short.
“Jewels,” he seethed.
“Hothead,” you mocked back, still staring at your book.
Agh, dammit! He should’ve never said anything about the damn face! Now you really won’t make it again.
He was about to snap, to yell and rage so loud until he got them kicked out of the bar, but at the last moment he bit his tongue, forcing himself not to. You were supposed to break first, dammit. Not him.
Katsuki took a deep breath in through his nose, loudly. He held it there for a second, two, before gurgling out, “So… you and your father… have the same face?”
His anger was simmering dangerously right above the surface, but he had to keep it in dammit. He needed to win. He could make small talk, if he had to.
You chuckled. “We make the same face, but after that, not so much.”
Your eyes danced curiously at him, a smirk growing on your face as they latched onto his furrowed brows, the red flushing across his cheeks, his grinding teeth, struggling from the effort of actually controlling his temper.
“Something you wanna say, hothead?” you teased, and something about that almost made him break.
Who you calling hothead, you snot-nosed-lemon-faced-princess- and ugh! He was even starting to think like you!
“No,” Katsuki ground out as he pointedly looked away, stubbornly crossing his arms in front of him.
"Really? You sure?" you continued, your voice light and filled with glee. "You seem pretty heated."
"I'm fine," he snapped, but you weren't phased. Your eyes continued to twinkle at him amusingly, any trace of anger completely gone.
Feeling trapped in a corner, Katsuki nodded towards your book. “What the hell are you reading anyway?! It must be good if it’s making you shut up.”
You scoffed. “I beg your-”
But you caught yourself in time, covering up your near slip-up by loudly clearing your throat.
A small feeling of victory bloomed in Katsuki's chest, spreading through him like wildfire.
“I’m reading a romance novel, if you must know,” you said cautiously, guarding yourself with the ridicule you know he'll throw at you.
Katsuki barked out a laugh, one that boomed throughout the entire bar, causing the place to tamper down before going back to its original noise.
“What the hell’re you reading that shit for?! You're at a bar, woman. You want romance so bad, why not just nab a guy here?!”
“It’s different,” you tried to argue.
“It’s fake,” Katsuki countered.
A sharp breath escaped through your nose, your nostrils flaring with anger.
Katsuki smirked, that warm feeling continuing to grow.
You forced yourself to breathe it out slowly, to let it go. You were quiet for a moment as you looked down at your book. Just when Katsuki started to wonder if maybe he took it too far, that he somehow hurt your feelings, your eyes shyly traveled back up to his, looking oddly vulnerable as you tried to make him understand.
“It’s safe,” you mumbled honestly.
Katsuki read you, feeling his jaw unclench as he saw what was probably the softest look you’ve ever given him. This was new too. You were always guarded, back straight and nose in the air as you walked through life. Katsuki knew emotions were difficult for you to express, and that reading was really your escape, a way to bury everything you felt, so you wouldn't be considered a problem. You were actually risking a lot, being like this in front of him, and Katsuki knew well enough to trample on it. He was rude, but he wasn’t cruel, dammit.
He snorted softly. “If you wanted safe, you wouldn't've become a Hero.”
And because Katsuki could relate, he also took a risk. He slowly moved his hand towards yours, like if he moved too fast he would spook you off (‘cause with your temper, he never knew, woman.) But you didn’t move, and he placed his hand over yours, gently leading it to close the book it held.
You didn’t fight back. You didn't holler, or scream, or cast him a dirty look. You just stared back at him in wonder, those eyes of yours pricked with tears from, something.
"The world is never safe, hothead. That's why we exist," he remembered you saying once. And something told Katsuki you were remembering it too.
And then you smiled, a little defeated as you admitted that he was right. You didn’t say it out loud, of course, but Katsuki knew. He saw the way your shoulders relax, how you finally seemed loose, carefree, happy. And that smile of yours made you shine in a way that your eyes never could, practically glowing as you went on and on about anything and everything, keeping your hand in his.
And as Katsuki sat there and listened (‘cause he still wasn’t that comfortable with small talk), he occasionally glanced down to the book, that warm feeling hitting him every time as it sat there, ignored.
The feeling of victory. It was Katsuki's favorite thing in the world.
