Chapter Text
In the husk of night, the beasts slept.
The moon hung low, its face full and skimming across the tops of an endless expanse of trees towering from the ground below. Rumours had it that the trees grew up in an effort to one day reach the stars, where they would no longer be crowded by their neighbours, free to stretch their roots as far as they pleased.
The moon would continue its journey skyward, encompassing the world in a single beam of light.
From the top of a pointed cliff edge, a creature would sit, head held high like the trees around them. And then, with their spine breaching back, they would open their maw to release a long tendril of sound.
Their song curled lazily into the sky, spreading its reaches to as vast as the farthest tree that could be seen, before its strength simmered down into a blanket, seeping back into the earth below.
Once the song had ended, Izuku lowered his chin, taking steady breaths. For it was his duty to cast the Mighty One’s song across the woods, a power that grew within him in strength with the guidance of the full moon.
He carefully stood on his hind legs with a stretch, used to the routine of protecting the forest. He’d not have to cast another spell until the next moon, and knew it was time for him to rest alongside every other beast.
The forest should have been asleep, and yet Izuku paused in place at the presence of a bizarre, repetitive sound. It sounded like skin hitting skin, and Izuku couldn’t help but peer down from the cliff’s edge, wondering just what was making such a ruckus.
There, in the darkness of the brush, with eyes adept at seeing in such low visibility, Izuku spotted it. A human; sat against stone, at the bottom of the cliffside. Clapping its hands together.
How peculiar.
Humans were easy prey to the denizens of the forest. It was why they kept themselves to the confines of their guarded walls, and those that left never strayed from the lantern-lit trails. Izuku couldn’t help but wonder why it had found itself sat where it was.
He felt a string of saliva fall from his parted teeth. It had been a very long time since he’d eaten a human. His duties to the forest kept him occupied enough, and he had only had his luck once when a lost wanderer was fortunate enough to stumble right into his path.
He understood why some beasts were known to ambush their wagons, though. They were unreasonably delicious.
But Izuku’s curiosity was larger than his stomach, and he couldn’t comprehend why it was sitting out in the open so vulnerably, making a hideous amount of noise as if it was seeking the attention.
Maybe it was a trap.
Izuku crouched low from his perch and contemplated his choices.
Then, to his surprise, the human spoke.
“Your singing,” it called up to Izuku. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”
What?
Izuku pressed himself further into the ground and pulled his ears flat against his head. Did the human know who it was talking to?
Undeterred, it continued.
“Sometimes I can hear you from my window. But your song… It’s as if you give the moon a voice each month.”
Izuku knew his song was meant to be spread as far as he could manage, but a bizarre twinge of warmth stung the back of his eyes. He'd never expected humans to hear of his song - it was a song for protection of the beasts, after all.
“It’s honestly so beautiful,” the human continued, rising from its seat. It was staring blindly up at the cliffside, where Izuku knew its eyes couldn’t see. “Would you mind if I kept you company, to hear your melody up close?”
Izuku’s fur prickled along his limbs, at a loss. Was he simply...expected to answer? The scenario was so absurd. What human came into the woods, asking for the attention of a beast? To his horror, he felt his tongue curl in silent words inside his mouth, as if practicing an answer.
But before he could make a sound, the unnatural sway of lantern lights streaked through the edges of the trees, accompanied by the marching clank of metal.
“Your Highness!” A voice called out. “My prince!”
The human turned around with a sigh, and Izuku took the opportunity to flee from his high ground, racing as fast as he could away from the approaching guardsmen and their controlled fire.
“My prince, you know you shouldn’t be out here; your Majesty is throwing a fit at your absence,” was the last Izuku could hear as he fled, his heart racing with each pump of his limbs.
Not just any foolish human had wandered into the woods - but the prince!
Izuku’s head was swimming. What an unexpected encounter!
The request of the prince sat heavy on his brow, and even as he slowed his pace to a trot, he found himself wondering what exactly he had expected to reply with.
It wasn’t until Izuku was far enough into the trek that he realised that eating him hadn't even crossed his mind.
Izuku didn’t know what to expect from the prince’s request.
As the month had carried on, his days had resumed their normalcy. He’d talk with the other beasts, find food for those who struggled, and settle disputes with a confident voice. They’d watch him work from afar as he tracked signs of the ever approaching Noumu, and listened intently to his advice on where to start avoiding their paths until the new moon. The other creatures seemed more so at peace with him around, he thought, perhaps a little too proudly.
Sometimes they were kind enough to groom his matted pelt, along his hunched spine that he simply couldn’t reach. Other times they’d share food, as a token of appreciation. Sometimes, there were rising challengers - beasts who simply wanted what Izuku had. Sometimes he had to fight them off, and sometimes he had to kill them.
As simple as it was, Izuku was always busy. The forest was his; it had been for years, after being gifted and tutored in the way of the Mighty One before him.
It came to a point when he had almost entirely forgotten about his encounter with the odd prince, and sat upon his highest perch to cast his song.
The Noumu - artificial, wandering scourges loose in the forest, were repelled by his spell. They would never leave the deepest shadows of the woods while the casting was fresh, and with the increase of their numbers recently, Izuku found himself more reliant on his gift than ever before.
As the evening waned thin and Izuku’s howling breath died to a whisper, the air was filled with clapping once again. Izuku startled in his spot, then found himself peering down over the cliffside, his skin ablaze.
The little human prince was back. By the stone once more, applauding the end of his evening's work. Izuku felt a rush of heat burning through his face. How long had he been there?
Izuku didn’t understand it - why would the prince be so compelled to pursue his song every moon, at the risk of his own life? If Izuku was smart, he would leap down the rock face and scare him off, teach the humans that the woods was not theirs to traverse, and be done with it.
And yet, as the prince called up a neat little, “You sound lovely,” Izuku was overwhelmed by the flooding prickle of his hair rising on edge. Not in a way that meant danger, but with a sensation Izuku might have come to understand as embarrassment.
He bounded away before the prince could rise from his seat, an uncomfortable something curling inside his gut.
A beast should not react to the praise of humans, Izuku told himself resolutely. Let alone fall for flattery.
Moons passed, and the prince came back, every single time, to listen to Izuku cast his song.
At first Izuku attempted to ignore him. He was simply obnoxious background noise, a silly little nobody who just so happened to like talking to a cliff wall.
By the third month, the applause started before he had even finished his song, and Izuku couldn’t shake off the curl of his grin when he recognised the clapping sync a beat to the tune of his song.
By the sixth month, Izuku would remain even after casting his song, lying against the grass and listening to everything the prince had to offer. The prince seemed to enjoy his one-sided conversations a lot, and Izuku had plenty of ears to listen.
Apparently, his mother was a beautiful singer too.
Yet why are you out here listening to me, instead of her? Izuku wondered.
Apparently those who sung in his court for entertainment were insufferable
Izuku didn’t quite understand what that meant, so he tried to imagine the sound of a hoard of bumblefoots skittering beside his ears as they seeked his warmth as he slept. Yes, he could understand how it could be ‘insufferable’.
Now as Izuku trekked towards his post every full moon, and instead of wishing for a rewarding sleep after his duties, he was alight with the anticipation of reuniting with his bizarre little companion.
It was dangerous, but Izuku might even admit that he was addicted to how the prince’s words could make his breath quicken.
Maybe, this was what it was like for the prince every time he heard his song.
The following month was tiresome.
Something was going on with the Noumu. What was once a preventable inconvenience was becoming a more notorious problem.
Beasts and magic were like oil and water - they were two things that naturally repelled, so when such creatures had manifested from magic itself, they brought nothing but trouble when cohabiting with the resident beasts.
They seemed to not need to eat, or drink, or sleep. They held no cognitive intelligence, as far as Izuku could tell. But they could destroy things. And attack things. And demolish parts of the woods and inhabitants in the woods, and week by week more and more beasts were left in distress.
Izuku knew little about Noumu, aside from his own investigation and tracking. The Noumu killed, and the Noumu collected. He’d followed them after they pulled apart the corpse of a foolish beast who attempted to fight one, which was yet another unfortunate reminder that they were seemingly unbeatable.
Izuku had yet to face one, and doubted he could come out on top if he did.
They’d take their collections to the parts of the woods, where the air turned dense with fog and heavy with damp. Izuku only dared tread so far in, to the point where his fur sagged in the moist air.
The fog seemed thick with something bodily weighing him down, and as the damp finally seeped far enough into his coat to touch skin, it began to burn.
The fog was made from magic.
With a hissed yowl, Izuku was forced to leap out of the darkness and back to the safety of his own grounds, where he jumped into the lake to relieve his skin from the incessant sting.
He must have gotten close to where the Witch lived. Only they would be selfish enough to try and live in a world of beasts with a fence of magic.
This new information had been agitating Izuku for weeks. So as the moon crept up, emboldening his power to cast his song, Izuku had expected the night to go as any other. He’d be able to finally relax and listen to the words that made his chest feel fuzzy where his fur couldn’t reach.
He sung loud and far, his melody reaching the moon's rays and illuminating the tops of the forest’s trees below. Despite the increase of Noumu activity, this would spare him the next couple of weeks of dealing with their messes, banishing them to the dank confines of the Witch’s territory. The last breath of his tune would be accompanied by the accompanying applaud of a foolish human prince, and the rest of his evening could be one of tranquil.
Yet when his song ended, there was no clap to echo up the rock face he was perched upon. Izuku blinked, surprised at the silence.
That was… unexpected.
Could it be - had the prince decided not to come for once?
He shouldn’t have felt disappointed, yet the absence of praise felt physical against his chest. He couldn’t help but huff, his shoulders drooping. His night felt like it had ended on a rather sour note.
With an additional drawn out sigh, Izuku picked himself up from his perch, ready to retire from his dreary evening, when a new sound caught his attention. He perked all four ears, alert, hearing the messy scrabble against rock.
Something was scaling the rock face.
Nothing dared scale his perch. The beasts respected his areas and would never trespass. He stiffened.
But Noumu might.
Could it be true? With the increase of Noumu activity, were they becoming immune to his song? Had that damned Witch been tinkering with them further?
Izuku pulled back behind the brush, limbs stiff and arm at the ready. It was foolish to think he’d have any disadvantage from the top of the rock face. But then again, Noumu didn’t seem to think.
There was the echo of crumbling rock where they reached the top, pulling themselves up. Izuku tensed, ready to pounce. He doubted he could win in a brawl, so he’d let the fall do the work in destroying the Noumu.
There was step. Then another.
Izuku reared up from his hiding point, lashing out his large claws with a bellowed roar.
Blood flew.
But the blood flecked red, not the expected oozing black sludge that flowed deep within Noumu’s skin. There was no monstrous screaming either, only the light tinny wail of a human cry.
The prince reeled back, clutching his hands at the mess dripping out of his face. Izuku stared back in shock.
“No-” he barely breathed out, cold drenching through his bones and chilling him something hollow. What was - why was he here?!
The prince blindly continued stepping backwards, until his foot wandered straight off the cliff face. As his body descended, Izuku lunged.
His blackened claws were tipped in shiny red as he grabbed onto the prince’s arm. The sight made a lump build in his throat, made his gut roll with worry. The human dangled uselessly over the ledge, his face dripping out of the shape it was meant to hold.
Izuku had done that. There was so much more damage than blood. Were his eyes still there? He couldn’t tell through the nervous wracketing shakes of his own body. The was no denying the invasive, inky spread of guilt filling every crevice of his being. He had never felt this way before. Everything felt wrong.
Izuku tried to readjust his grip, and tugged the prince up, but the human stiffened at the motion. His free hand scrabbled at Izuku’s claws, trying to dislodge him.
You’ll fall, Izuku thought in a panic, gripping his arm tighter. The fall would disarm Noumu at best. It’d kill a human at worst .
The warning to stay still was ready on his tongue, and yet nothing came out aside from a seething hiss, when a singeing cold tore through his skin. What was - something glittered across his arm, and Izuku recognised it as ice , creeping up his limb and splitting his skin with agony.
It was embedded with magic.
Izuku couldn’t help the screech that tore out from his throat, the cold burned in a way that made him want to tear his limb off, but he was still latched onto the prince desperately. He needed to pull him up now!
But then the prince began to pry his fingers underneath each of Izuku’s frozen claws, manually trying to force open his grip.
“N-no!” The prince spat out through the veil of blood seeping down his face. “Let me go!”
The fall will kill you, Izuku wanted to scream, but the pain piercing through his limb brought stinging tears to his eyes, and he watched, helpless, as the prince loosened his grip enough until he slipped out of his reach.
Izuku held his breath, and watched the prince plummet. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, his arm still outstretched and inflamed in an icicled sleeve.
He watched, and listened. Counted the number of thuds, the length of a scrape.
Only once there was silence did Izuku move.
He hopped down the edge of the cliff skilfully, stone clinking down into the forest below. He had watched the angle, the corner where the prince had collided into the rock face, the slope he'd managed to slide down. He knew exactly where the prince would have landed.
As for how he faired, his chances were worrisome.
Izuku managed to scratch the chunks of ice out from his pelt on his descent, but it did nothing to alleviate the constant pain throbbing through his pores. The digits of his claws were swollen and numb.
But the pain was irrelevant right now. Because pain meant he was alive, and there was a fair chance that the prince wasn’t.
Leaping over a shrub, Izuku found him.
The prince was splayed out, limp across the grassy flooring. Dust still hung in the air, marking down the slope where he had fallen from, and dancing in the moon’s light like gentle fireflies. With his eyes missing in a swath of blood, the prince simply looked like he was sleeping, limbs deadweight and relaxed.
Izuku was afraid to disturb him.
His ears folded back, catching the crackle of leaves behind him. A family of bumblefoots made their way out of the brush, shuffling on half asleep limbs out from their nests. Of course the commotion would awake them. They were inherently nosy little beasts.
“Hue-men?” One of them stepped closer to the prince, and Izuku stomped his hoof in front of its path. It leapt back with a squeak, wiggling back over to the rest of its family. Another one wormed itself forward.
“Deh-ku,” it tilted it’s striped head at him, eyes beady and glinting in the light of the moon. “S-share?”
Had this been any other circumstance - if Izuku had been smarter-
“No,” he ground out through gritted teeth.
He couldn’t treat the prince like food now.
One bumblefoot nudged its snout against Izuku’s leg. “S-share? S-share!”
More of the bumblefoots followed suit, crowding at his legs with gentle nudges, their rattlesnake stutter ricocheting around him. “S-share! S-share!”
One of them shuffled towards the prince. It’s little shrew snout morphed into a pit of teeth. “S- share-“
“I SAID NO!” Izuku bellowed, stepping over the crowd and reaching for the unsheathed maw. He swiped at it with an underhanded strike, and with a startled pip it sailed overhead, colliding with the trunk of a tree. The others stepped back, furs bristling in fright. Izuku stepped in front of the prince’s body, lowering himself onto four legs to arch his back overhead.
“NOW LEAVE!”
The bumblefoots scattered in a noise of peeps, hiding into the nearest bush. They peered from the safety of the leaves, but Izuku knew they would persist the moment he turned away.
He couldn’t leave the prince where he was.
Apprehensive, Izuku treaded lightly over to the body, and stared down at the mess he had caused.
His looming shadow pitted the prince’s face in a streak of darkness. Izuku looked down at his own claws. One shook with the trembling pain that persisted, but it did nothing to remove the threat that was at the end of each rounded talon.
All of this happened because of his actions. He had swung too soon.
Slowly, he curled his claws into his palms, until the tips dug into his own skin. With his claws sheathed into useless fists, he lowered himself to one knee, sliding his arms under the prince’s limp body.
Even while being deadweight, humans were impeccably tiny. Izuku understood how he had injured him so easily now, how paper thin he was slumped into the cavity of his chest.
As he stood up, the prince let out an odd, snorting breath. It finished on a weak cough, and Izuku felt his eyes widen. He was still alive!
But he was clearly in a very bad shape. And Izuku was a protector, not a healer. He wouldn’t know how to aid the prince’s recovery.
But humans might.
Izuku turned to look past the trees and the bumblefoots daring to creep back towards him. The city wasn’t far. It was where the prince travelled from every month, after all. If he left him by the gates, where the guards stood watch, he’d get the help he would need to survive.
He was likely to be shot at, if seen, but Izuku probably deserved more pain than the current aches he felt.
He set off towards the city walls, pausing only slightly to acknowledge the bumblefoot he had attacked, who lay dead at the foot of the tree.
He carefully nudged the limp body into the open with the back of his hoof, and within seconds the remaining bumblefoots surrounded their fallen brethren. Their jaws warped open, and they were left to feast ravenously at its remains. Their chittery “S-share! S-share!” chanted throughout the night, fading in volume as Izuku stole the prince away.