Chapter Text
“Ejiro Kirishima, my prince.”, The man bows low, a few feet from Bakugou. Black hair, plaited with fair red ribbon falls over the light terracotta skin of his neck, just showing. The stableyard was no place for Bakugou to be, he knew that. Muck, already clinging to his soft leather boots. Good. His knight looked flustered; dressed in informal underclothes, left vulnerable without his bright shell, and laden with supplies for the following journey. His arms were bare empty enough to allow for him to bow. Prince Bakugou liked to keep his playthings on their toes. This one, in particular.
“Get up.”
“My prince.”
He stands, impossibly bright and impossibly strong. A smile set firm on his face, as if he had no part in putting it there, and therefore had no choice in baring it so obnoxiously without apparent need.
“This isn’t your job, knight.”
The prince crosses his arms over the fine silk of his apricot waistcoat. Furs, tied at his waist by rough twine, jostle at his change in footing. Sir Kirishima had been warned of him. His temperament, to be put delicately. Delicate, not being a word often used, or even given heed, when regarding his new master. He’d taken it to heart. His stance doesn’t change, a formal, boxed foot, level with his shoulders, and a straight back. Eye, fiercely holding that of the prince. He takes a moment to evaluate his appearance.
The prince wore his ash-blonde hair in a loose french braid, finishing with a small bun at the nape of his neck, short, scruffy sides, framing the traditional cut. Well kept, but wild. He was slender, but by no means scrawny. His features were harsh. Sharp cheekbones, an accusingly furrowed brow set two long worn lines between, a strong, thin jaw, just rounded at the chin, and piercing crimson eyes. His skin was pale, almost translucent. It looked fragile. Of course, he knew this man to be anything but fragile, but the thought remains. A scowling porcelain doll. Untraditionally handsome, he decides. Unusual.
The prince had a less flattering view of him. The knight’s shoulders were wide, as if made to pull carts. Oxish. The clumsy, uneven cut of his ebony hair glares insolently from its nestling of ribbon, so pristine in its scarlet. Two tufts sit proud of the man’s head at the edge of his hairline, standing tall, like horns. A softer face than his own, gently curved jawline framing the full, warm expanse of his cheeks. A mouth that curved up at the corners, not that you’d often see past the open grin he’d brandish at every opportunity. His eyes were of a similar shape to his own, but seemed kinder, even if set in such a battleworn face. Badly shaven, at that. Patchy. Untraditionally handsome, he decides. Unusual.
Their extended glace is interrupted by the muttered comment of a passing groom to another, leading the carthorses to their tethers with something of great hilarity. Barely suppressed laughter rings out through the damp morning air, crisp in his lungs. Katsuki’s head turns sharply to meet their impish gaze, quickly quelling conversation and snubbing any further glances.
The knight follows his eyeline, settling his own on the passing grooms. He smiles at them, oblivious to their comments. Comments, being entirely to do with the prince’s adamance at this particular knight’s employment, and a dogged vehemence to any other route than the one set far out to the east, on grounds that he needed new flora samples for his botanical studies. Botanical studies. Botanical studies that had been objected to for years, and a route that would take him a good three days ride out of the way. Into neutral territories. Where all military accompaniment other than personal guard were forbidden. Huh. Needless to say, tongues will wag, and had.
The knight remains ignorant. Blissfully so. It was an honour to be chosen for such an important job, more so after just shy of ten years’ knighthood. The role would usually fall to a knight of far superior maturity and experience, if only for appearances’ sake.
“I’m aware, my prince.” He begins, after a pause. A pause that could have been ten minutes just as easily as seconds. “But I had some time on my hands. ‘Thought I’d be useful.”
He glances at the greying sky, taking a quiet breath of crisp air as he thinks. His eyes fall quickly back to the prince. “I’d expected you to be taking a meal so early, I apologize for any impropriety.” A grain of anxiety sets seed in his chest, just below his breastbone. He can’t screw this up. It isn’t an option.
“We’ll eat on the road.”
“Of course, my p-”
“My name is Katsuki.”
“...”
The knight stares at him, wide-eyed. Would it be rude to refuse such informality? Or would it be rude to take it? Was this a test? Should he even respond??
“...Ejirou. My Katsuki.”
The prince wrinkles his nose, whether in amusement or anger isn’t immediately clear. A small smile breaks loose of its scowling restraints as he leans back on his thick coat pockets.
“We’ll ride out in an hour. Be ready,” he snorts, taking a sharp breath as the following words spread what could quite easily be mistaken for a light blush across his ears. “My knight.”