Chapter Text
Everything was always different when seen from above.
And the foreign castle and its pathetic gated town was no exception. In fact, from atop the back of his dragon, the Alpha prince of the Barbarians: Katsuki Bakugou, couldn’t help but think that it was fitting that something deemed so insurmountable looked no larger than an ant from his vantage point.
The sun had long since faded, and Katsuki was grateful for his natural body warmth as the winter air whipped around him and his dragon in a violent wind that sent Kirishima veering slightly to the right from its power. Up here, even the scarlet red dragon had to be conscious of the way the currents flowed.
“Careful, Moron!” Katsuki snapped towards his mount, glaring at the back of the dragon’s head when he snorted in amusement at Katsuki’s complaint.
He shifted his gaze back down below once more, scanning the castle once more.
“Take us lower,” Katsuki announced, ignoring the attitude. “There’s a gap in surveillance near the top of the west tower. With the cover of darkness, we should be able to get close enough to land undetected.”
The dragon chuffed beneath him, wings tucking in as his large body angled towards the ground. It had been years since the first time Katsuki had ridden his first dragon, but he didn’t think a day would ever come when the experience would stop being exhilarating for him. However, as they were going for stealth (and a dragon wasn’t exactly subtle), Katsuki kept in the instinctive whooping sounds bubbling in his chest.
Kiri and Katsuki had been practicing stealth landings for years, and as soon as Katsuki had clearly directed the other to his desired landing location, he moved into position, hoisting himself up slightly on the balls of his feet - readying himself for dismount.
One..Two..Three
Katsuki counted down and leapt off the dragon’s back at the same time that the red beast beneath him began to shrink. It was an even more difficult dismount than usual, seeing as how the tower wasn’t exactly wide - they had maybe three meters from edge to edge, so precision was key.
But he wasn’t the best dragon rider because of his birthright. He’d proved his worth hundreds of times in battle and otherwise. The pair landed - if mildly hard - on top of the tower, breathing labored but safe and sound. Kirishima’s mouth split into a wide grin, and Katsuki rolled his eyes. How was this idiot Hybrid Alpha his best friend?
“You remember the plan?” He asked the other, cutting straight to the point.
“Stay here, keep watch. Cause a distraction only if necessary, and listen for the signal, in case you can’t make it back here.”
Katsuki gave a brisk nod. Good. The idiot remembered the plan.
“What about you?” Kirishima tilted his head. “You remember all of Kyoka’s descriptions?”
Katsuki scoffed. “Of course I fucking do. Scarred, unusual hair, ‘pretty’.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. He doubted the Todoroki heir was as pretty as the spy had claimed, but then - the alpha woman was as gay as Katsuki, so if she thought a man was attractive, they had to be above and beyond. “Strong Pheromones.”
He wished that they had time to hunt the woman down and ask her for more specific details, but Katsuki wasn’t supposed to be in the city - and he couldn’t risk detection. He wasn’t exactly a subtle guy, and every minute they remained there put them and their plan at risk.
“She said the royal wing was on the east side, right?” Kirishima questioned, and Katsuki confirmed the answer.
“Yeah. And the prince’s quarters are supposed to be nearer to the top. Supposedly the only person higher in the tower is the queen. Kyoka says nobody ever sees her, and the prince himself only makes an appearance on occasion, never in public.”
Which was the exact reason why they only had a vague description of the prince. Very few people had actually met him. Enji Todoroki was an arrogant tyrant who wasn’t even accepting of his own son .
For half a second Katsuki allowed himself to feel guilty for planning on making the Prince’s life worse. But, Shoto Todoroki wasn’t the only one with a kingdom to think of, and Katsuki couldn’t afford to let this opportunity slide by.
“Right,” Katsuki stated, rolling his shoulders and approaching the edge of the tower. “I’ll be back soon. Listen for the call if shit goes south.”
“You got it!” The redhead grinned, sitting back against the tower edge before cracking his knuckles and shifting. The tower was too small for a full shift, but he still merged halfway, scales covering his body in a protective layer to fight the cold as he hunkered down to wait for his prince.
Katsuki reached to the belt around his hips and pulled out two metal hooks he’d brought with him for this occasion. Kasuki loved cliff climbing back home, he did it often, sometimes using hunting as an excuse to scale the nearby peaks - to get away from his responsibilities just for a few days. More often than not, his mother would send Kirishima after him no more than a day later, but it never stopped Katsuki from going out. Since the southern kingdom was so much warmer than the northern Todoroki empire, Katsuki wasn’t well versed in scaling icy surfaces, but he had full confidence in his ability to scale this tower - ice covered or not.
With a manic grin, adrenaline already pumping, Katsuki dug one metal hook into the stone tower and swung himself over the edge; he had a prince to find.
Midoriya Izuku yawned for what had to have been the billionth time that day. He’d been up for the better part of just under two days to create, administer and monitor Prince Shoto’s healing tonic. It was Izuku’s remedy, following another experiment gone bad that had made the difference between life and death.
Enji Todoroki was determined, you see, to find a way to remove Shoto’s scar. With the tensions between the Northern Todoroki kingdom and the Southern Barbarians rising, Enji was attempting to solidify an advantageous arrangement between himself and the richest family in the kingdom. But, knowing how picky the Yaoyorozu family was in the pursuit of perfection, it was Enji’s belief that Shoto would be useless to him with the current scar on his face.
It didn’t matter, of course, how reluctant Shoto was to marry the omega whom he’d only met a handful of times; Enji was insisting on proceeding with his plans. Shoto himself had only met Momo under extremely guarded circumstances - he wasn’t, after all, allowed outside of the palace, and even within the palace, his movements were heavily restricted. Both Momo and her servant Kyoka were incredibly kind people, and Izuku always enjoyed their visits. But, Shoto had more than expressed an aversion to his father’s plans. Izuku didn’t know why the prince was so reluctant, but he respected that those were his feelings on the matter, and could, therefore, only sympathize with him.
The king, however, refused his son the same courtesy. Which continuously led him to desperate attempts at removing his son’s ‘blemish’. The latest attempt had involved an outsourced mage, one that had been solicited to perform a ritual. Both Izuku and Ochaco had protested the plan, expressing their concerns over the proposed herbal remedy on Izuku’s part, and the magic itself on Ochaco’s. Izuku was the court alchemist after all - a recent development following the passing of his master, Toshinori. The man had been in poor health for several years, but he’d taught Izuku everything he knew about the practice. Unfortunately he wasn’t allowed to dedicate as much attention to the craft as he wished, what with Shoto’s insistence that Izuku continue his duties as his personal servant.
Ochaco was an apprentice to the castle mage - a doddering man on the verge of dropping himself any day. He’d been teaching her everything she knows, and she’d been particularly pliant to his instructions seeing as how she was not born to a family with a specific practice of magic, like the Todoroki, Iida or Yayorozu family. Magic was a funny thing, after all. Most people were born to families who would raise them in a certain branch of magic, and in doing so, it often blocked them from learning other types. While that could be perceived as a weakness, most considered it the opposite - after all, strengthening one branch of magic, especially when passed down from family to family, meant strong magic, strong control. Ochaco’s family had not bound her to the family magic, and while she still had a penchant for lightening spells and levitation, her lack of single-minded training meant she was also capable of other types.
But as much as Enji Todoroki seemed to prefer his court mages to be capable of such, he also held a certain disregard for their efficacy when faced with serious matters. Hence why he wasn’t satisfied with Ochaco or her master’s ability to heal his son, after all, nothing had worked before, so why should he trust them now?
Which led to the current problem. He disregarded everyone’s expertise and went for a mage with a supposedly strong family magic, and it almost killed his son. Part of Izuku couldn’t blame the king for ignoring him , after all, he didn’t have any magic. Not a single lick of it. His only skill was in his mental catalog of every plant and its known properties - in his ability to make tinctures, tonics, potions and poultices.
Which, following the king’s latest foolhardy escapade meant he’d been almost exclusively inside of the infirmary, tending to the ailing prince - both in his position as an alchemist and as the other’s servant. It was, after all, the prince’s wish that Izuku keep him company. The prince considered Izuku a friend - his only friend, really. And while sometimes Izuku felt like the other didn’t really know how to be a friend, he returned the sentiment and treatment as best he was able. Something, however, that as an omega, stressed Izuku out sometimes.
It seemed to him that every time he was kind to an alpha, they took it as an invitation. And he wasn’t interested - in anyone . Not Tenya, not Shoto or Inasa and certainly none of the old perverts who were currently watching him as he turned towards the eastern tower. He ducked his head as he passed several men who were part of Enji’s court, tuning out their conversation about the latest southern rumor - something about another omega sacrifice. Izuku cared very little for their words when he was busy avoiding the way that several of them were staring at him with that look, the one that haunted his nightmares. The one from that night.
Izuku shivered as soon as he was out of sight and shook his head as if the memory was something physical he could rid himself of. Because his head was ducked, Izuku wasn’t paying attention as he collided with something solid.
A grunt slipped past his lips as he stumbled backwards slightly, something reaching out to steady his shoulders.
He looked up into a shockingly large amount of purple.
“Are you alright?” A deep voice asked, and he blinked, registering that the purple in front of him belonged to a man, and alpha by the scent, with shockingly violet hair and eyes.
“Um,” Izuku had to gather his thoughts before he was able to nod. “Yes. Sorry. For running into you. I didn’t mean-”
“Hey,” The alpha gave him a gentle look. “It’s okay.” He scanned over Izuku’s face. “Are you okay, though? You seem a bit..” he trailed off and Izuku realized that in his exhaustion, he’d been letting out some manner of distress in his scent. Izuku had a hard time controlling his pheromones in general, but it was even worse after the past two days he’d spent awake.
Izuku tried to reign his pheromones in with a gentle smile. “Of course.”
The man appraised him with an almost knowing look of doubt. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “Well, don’t let me keep you, Izuku.”
Izuku blinked. “You know who I am?” He tilted his head. “But I don’t..” He trailed off.
The man gave a grin that was almost wolfish. “I know who you are Izuku. But it’s alright if you don’t know who I am.” He tipped his head slightly. “I hope you get some rest. You’ve been awake a long time.” He stepped around Izuku and began walking away, a casual sort of grace to his movements.
“Wait-” Izuku tried calling after him, but the man just lifted his hand and waved as he turned the corner.
Izuku should probably have followed him to question who he was, but as soon as the other was out of sight, it almost felt like something was in his head urging him to walk away and forgetting about what he’d seen. In fact, as he began climbing the stairs, his run in with the man was little more than a foggy thing he could only half recall. Maybe he’d just hallucinated in his exhaustion. That was probably it.
He reached Shoto’s room after a dazed walk, eyes looking longingly towards his bedroom just a few paces further down the corridor. But he had a duty, so he opened up the prince’s door and pushed inside, tossing his shoulder bag on the table a few feet inside. The bag in question was probably the nicest possession he owned - a gift from Shoto on Izuku’s eighteenth birthday - the only birthday gift Izuku had received since his mother died when he was seven years old.
With a sigh, Izuku crossed the room to the prince’s private collection of books, looking for the prince’s favorite one. That was what he was there for, after all. Shoto had requested Izuku read to him tonight - specifically from his favorite book.
Izuku was scanning the shelves for it when his eyes caught on another book - the shabbiest of the bunch. His heart panging in his chest, Izuku carefully tugged it out, running his finger gently down the spine and recalling the years of his life his mother had read to him from this exact copy, well into the shadows of the night, when even the candles were burning out - tucked away in their corner of the castle, voices hushed so as not to disturb the other servants.
If there was one moment in Izuku’s life that he resented the prince for, it was the day that he’d demanded Izuku give him this book. He’d told Izuku that everything in the castle belonged to him anyways and that if Izuku wanted to read it, he’d just have to do so in Shoto’s room.
Izuku didn’t think the prince had ever even read it himself. Instead it had just been the hostage he held over Izuku’s head.
Izuku held the fraying leather against his heart and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent as if he’d still somehow find his mother’s scent, nearly thirteen years later.
It was probably because he was breathing in so deeply - already searching for pheromones - that his nose picked up the foreign scent immediately.
His back tensed up and he looked around frantically, searching in the dark for the alpha who’s overwhelming scent of burning wood and cinnamon and caramel was sending a pulse of something through Izuku’s bones.
When his eyes settled on the figure next to the window, however, he shivered in pure terror. Why was there a Barbarian in the prince’s room?