Work Text:
Izuku straightens his green vest over the loose-fitting white linen shirt, sucking in a shuddering breath as he stations himself by the entrance to the castle grounds next to Aizawa. His Majesty Todoroki Enji, King of the prosperous land of Endeavor is visiting the humble Yuuei per King Toshinori’s request. Their kingdoms had been at odds since the last great war, and while his King had no intention of stirring up any more trouble, Todoroki Enji was another tale entirely. Everyone knew of his plans of conquest and glory, and Yuuei wanted none of it. So, it came to King Toshinori to soften their relations to avoid any future wars.
As his appointed successor, it falls upon Izuku’s shoulders to entertain Enji’s own and make sure the young man has only the best things to say about him and his kingdom. No pressure.
As soon as the head of the King’s guard announce the Endevoreans’ arrival, Izuku feels his heart lurch to his throat as his stomach sink in quite the opposite direction. The moment the Crown Prince appears into view, perched on his stunning white mare as she trots alongside a large, red stallion carrying his equally large father, Izuku has to bite back a mildly terrified squeak. Clearing his throat, he makes sure to stand a little straighter before approaching, bowing his head respectfully when the two royals step down from their mounts and hand them to the stable boys awaiting the reins.
Aizawa quickly introduces himself as the Royal Advisor and Izuku as the heir, instructing them on how the day will proceed for the King and Prince. He offers to young man a smile as bright as he can muster with the anxiety choking him, and when he is met with only a cold, blue grey and unamused gaze, all Izuku can do is gulp. This is going to be a challenge.
He knew that the King was brash and authoritarian, that he was a stubborn man set on his ways that often solved any and all problems through violence rather than diplomacy. Izuku supposes he had been holding on to a foolish shred of hope that his son may have been more intellectually inclined.
Well, Izuku is nothing if not determined.
As soon as Aizawa leads the King to the small palace, Izuku hesitantly walks a little closer to the Prince, bowing his head yet again as a show of respect.
“If it please you, Your Grace, I will show you to the palace gardens so that we may have a relaxing walk away from the burdens of our Kings.”
The Prince simply grunts in response, leaving Izuku to resist the urge to flinch. With a subdued gesture of his head, Izuku motions for him to follow, discreetly rubbing at his chest once his back is turned in a fruitless attempt to calm his raging heart. As they walk in beyond uncomfortable silence, Izuku steals the occasional glance at the Prince.
Even with the subtle frown tugging his lips downward, as far as the rumours of his beauty go, they all appear to be true. It’s quite a shame that the ones of his temperament appear to be as well, Izuku had really been hoping they could become friends.
Stifling a sigh, Izuku begins pointing out rare flowers when they finally arrive at the gardens. Yuuei has good relations with the fair folk and they have gifted them pieces of their extravagant flora as a testament to their loyalty, he mentions, the casual warning hidden in his words. Should his father choose to ignore King Toshinori’s efforts to forge a peaceful alliance, it won’t just be their small kingdom they will have to fight.
The Prince hums curiously and Izuku staggers for a heartbeat. For some reason Izuku almost expected him to not be listening.
They continue on their way, and Izuku makes a point to pick one of the most beautiful flowers in the garden, now in full bloom. It begs for peace, despite Izuku’s previous assurance that a threat of war will not be met with surrender. When he offers it with a comment of its beauty being befitting of the Crown Prince’s own, the other scoffs but makes no comment, taking the flower with nary a word.
Even for someone as prone to talking to himself for hours as Izuku, carrying this entire conversation by himself is proving to be a little taxing. Still, Izuku does his best to keep it up for the next hour or so, until they finally settle on a marble bench at the gardens’ centre, birds chirping and butterflies fluttering their wings inches past their faces as the sun shines softly upon their heads. The ambience is peaceful, but the atmosphere is suffocating. Izuku is grasping at straws for further topics to fill the deafening silence.
“I hear that the heat of Endeavor is sometimes stifling. Yuuei’s weather is milder, even at this time of year, as Your Grace can see.”
“You don’t have to do this.” A strange voice sounds. It’s low and smooth, warm but with a bite akin to ice. Izuku only realises it belongs to the Prince when he turns towards the source and finds him staring.
“W-what—” Izuku curses himself for stuttering, caught off-guard by the intensity of his mismatched gaze. “Your Grace, I am merely—”
When he lifts up a hand to stop him from saying anything further, Izuku snaps his jaw shut, blinking stupidly. The Prince lets out a heavy sigh and leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, his posture hunched. Izuku gapes. Should a Crown Prince of Endeavor be sitting so casually?
“Don’t call me that, please. My name is Shouto. Just Shouto is fine. And you don’t need to try so hard to get on my good side. I don’t dislike you. Or your King and kingdom for that matter. In fact, he’s a better King than my father could ever hope to be.”
“Y-Your Grace, y-your Lord Father is—”
“An asshole.” The Prince—Shouto interrupts. Izuku balks. “You don’t need to pretend he isn’t. You don’t need to tell me I’m beautiful, either. Whatever I think of you doesn’t matter to him. You seem like a nice person, I’m sure that you will make a good and kind ruler when you take your King’s place. If my father decides to be stupid enough to engage you in a war, I hope you’re the one to strike me down. I won’t put up a fight, don’t worry.”
There really is nothing else Izuku can do or say to that. Or if there is, he isn’t sure what it might be. For the longest time, he simply looks at Shouto as he leans back into the seat and runs a hand through his exotic red and white locks, pushing them out of his face. He looks defeated, and it has nothing to do with the scar covering a quarter of his face.
“You could take his place, though. If you survived the battle.” He ends up saying before he can think better of it, and Shouto’s eyes looking towards him are disarmingly beautiful in how the shine in the sunlight. “You could be a better King than he is.”
Humming, Shouto tilts his head towards him. “Are you telling me you would aid me in dethroning my father? He would have your head if he heard you were trying to plant traitorous thoughts inside my own.”
Not entirely sure what comes over him, Izuku bites on his lower lip and casually turns the other way, crossing his legs. “I merely mean that I know a good ruler when I see one. What Your Grace makes of my words is no fault of mine.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Izuku swears he sees the Prince smirk. “Yuuei has lovely weather,” Shouto comments. “I would encourage our good relations just for a chance to appreciate it further.”
Finally, Izuku finds himself smiling genuinely. “Your Grace is welcome any time you wish.”