Archive of Our Own

Damp grass thudded under Izuku’s sandals as he sprinted across a field left fallow for the season. His breath ached in his lungs. His body was strong, stronger than he’d ever been, after years of working the land with his mother, but he didn’t spend much time sprinting between caring for the goats and lentils. He wouldn’t be running now if he’d had a better plan, any plan at all. Even now, he was well aware of how much he would owe to Fortuna if this worked out in his favor. 

He stumbled over a mole hole, recovering well with a flung hand digging into the earth. He pushed himself up without hesitation and threw himself forward once more. When he’d started, he’d had the advantage over the barbarians following the roads of his uncle’s estate, so he was making good time. They were on horseback but they were riding at a sedate pace to be respectful, and the road was a winding one to best display his uncle’s mature olive groves, still covered in the small white blossoms that had been there since the start of the new year. 

In order to avoid the main entrance of his uncle’s estate, he slipped through a crack in the wall that surrounded the back garden. He had to push through the bushes that disguised the hole, but found that to be no challenge, having slipped through this wall dozens of times when this estate had been his home. His chest heaved as he brushed himself off, quickly washing his feet and legs in the artificial pond to make himself more presentable. He stood in the gentle spring sun long enough to not be dripping water everywhere and for his breathing to level before approaching the back atrium of the villa.

“Izuku?” a servant asked, surprised to see him. He hadn’t entered this building in nearly seven years, so that was to be expected. He opened his mouth to ask how she fared, but his uncle’s hunting hounds barked and howled, signifying the approach of the barbarian contingent.

“I wish to speak with my uncle,” he said. “Where is he?”

“In the receiving room, prepared to welcome his guests. You shouldn’t disturb him now. He’s been planning this for months.”

“Thank you,” he said quickly, making haste past the pool to enter the building. Servants were bustling in and out of the receiving room, followed by the booming voice of his uncle. He left a flurry of murmurs in his wake as he walked directly into the room, hardly taking in the ornate decoration, so different from his mother’s taste. Before his uncle had even addressed him, he had prostrated himself before his feet, pride be cursed.

“Please allow me to meet with the foreigners,” he said, using the most polite language he knew how to. When his uncle let the silence hang, his anxious heart wouldn’t allow him to hold his tongue. “I wish to indenture myself.”

“You want to sell yourself to the barbarians? To what end?”

“To cease being a burden on my mother,” he replied honestly. “And on you,” he added, the lie uncomfortable in his mouth. 

“I didn’t realize you still lived with her,” he said, the disinterest in his voice worse than anger or even pity. “I assumed you’d have found an apprenticeship somewhere after all the family money your mother spent on your education.”

Izuku’s eyes closed, and he pressed his forehead more firmly against the stone floor to stay his angry tears. Nobody would have him after his father had left, divorcing his mother with his absence and leaving her without land or wealth to support herself. The shame of his actions was now projected on his child, and despite Izuku’s best efforts and most humble pleading, he had been unable to secure a path to independence. His only options were sustenance level work, and it didn’t feel right to leave his mother with all the labor for a position that would gain them no advancement in the world.

“No matter. The barbarians won’t know how lazy you are, and it will be on your skin when they realize. Stand up.” 

Izuku did so, blinking away his tears. He kept his eyes down.

“You look so much like your mother,” he said. “A pity you aren’t a woman.” He paused at that, then turned towards the doorway. “Liana,” he called. She appeared a few moments later, coming closer to his uncle when he beckoned. He spoke to her in low tones, too quiet for Izuku to hear. 

“Come with me,” she eventually said. When Izuku looked up, her olive skin was pale. “I’m to help wash and dress you to meet with the foreigners.”

“Don’t dawdle,” his uncle said, dismissing them. Izuku padded after Liana, heart pounding in his throat. He both hoped and feared that this would work.

Despite his uncle’s admonishment to hurry, it was hours before he was summoned. There were many matters of trade to discuss, and Izuku’s servitude was of little importance. Strangely, Liana never left his side, though she ignored him while she worked on mending and other projects.

“Where is your daughter?” he asked. When he had last seen Liana, her daughter had been a toddler and was always at her ankles. He guessed she would be old enough to help with small chores by now.

“Never you mind,” she said sharply. “Now hush until you’re summoned.”

He was taken aback by her sharp tone, and wondered if he should apologize for something. He turned away to give them each privacy and tried to find a way to pass the time that wasn’t thinking about how worried his mother would be when he didn’t show up for dinner. It’s not as though he could leave now. Liana had taken his clothing somewhere, leaving him with only a towel around his hips. The issue wasn’t his nudity. He often worked in naught but a loincloth, and wearing a towel was no different. The issue was that she had taken his only tunic. He couldn’t leave without it.

Also, he and his mother only had a home by his uncle’s leave. Embarrassing him in any way could mean devastation. They had a modest life, but a secure one. He wasn’t interested in jeopardizing that. 

“Liana,” another servant said, appearing in the doorway to the chamber where they waited. “Let’s dress him. It’s time.” They handed over a basket full of fabric, made of a finer weave than he had been expecting. When the servant shook out the tunic, Izuku frowned. It was long enough to brush the tops of his feet.

“That hardly seems suitable,” he said. Not only was it a woman’s garment, the only asset he offered was his lean, suntanned body, to show he was used to hard work. He wanted the foreigners to see it.

“Don’t talk,” Liana said, her voice still sharp, but unsteady. She grabbed hold of his elbow and pulled him so he was standing. “Raise your arms.” He obeyed, and she slid the tunic over his head. She deftly pinned the shoulders in place with brooches while the other servant looped a belt around his waist and cinched it tight.

“I don’t understand,” he said, stunned. “Why are you dressing me as a woman?”

“You are to be offered to the barbarian chieftain,” she said shortly.

“What? That’s insane. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill all of us. Does my uncle know? He’ll kill us again once the chieftain is through.”

“He knows,” Liana said, her face grave as she drew a cream-colored peplum over his head next, swatting at his arm for him to raise them so she could secure it with another belt, just under where his breasts would be, if he had any.

“He wants me dead,” Izuku said, shocked. This was a dramatic way to do it, but effective. “Why are you going along with this? If they discover the ruse, he may very well blame it on you.”

“He was going to send my sister,” she said shortly. “If we send you, they may well keep you as a slave. Better than being raped by a barbarian and birthing their oversized babes.” She draped a rich brown mantle over his head, draping it to artfully mask his short hair and strong shoulders. 

“What’s stopping me from revealing myself immediately to try to save my life?”

“Your uncle has promised to provide a dowry for your mother,” she said shortly. “Thrice the value of what you would get selling yourself as a laborer.” He jerked back as her hands came at his face, but she grabbed his chin to hold him still as she pinned a veil to the inside of the mantle on each side to hold it in place. “No time for paint, but-“ she stooped down to the basket and drew forth a small jar, opening it to reveal a half-used pot of perfume. She dabbed her fingertips into the solidified oil and quickly smeared it on either side of his neck and down the front of his dress. It smelled of pomegranates. 

“Will you-“ he swallowed dryly. “Will you do your best to ensure he upholds his promise?”

She nodded once, her lips pressed into a grim line. He took a shuddering inhale of a breath, then followed the other servant out of what he now realized to be the women’s chamber. 

“What is my name?” Izuku asked suddenly, his voice as low as he could manage. The servant ignored him, stepping forward into the receiving room with a respectfully bowed head.

“Your niece is here.”

“Bring her in.”

Izuku’s heart pounded in his chest as he stepped forward, wondering if he was walking convincingly enough, and realizing suddenly he wasn’t sure he knew the difference between how a man and a woman walked. Women had never particularly drawn his gaze. If only for this moment, he wished he had studied them more. He meant to keep his face down, trying to appear shy or at least respectful, but his curiosity betrayed him. He had never seen a foreigner up close, and now there were three in this room.

They were huge. Broad in chest and shoulder and muscle. The clothing they wore, fabrics with unfamiliar patterns and lined in fur, were brutal to Izuku’s eyes. The chieftain was obvious. He wasn’t the largest of the group, that honor went to one with shockingly red hair, but he carried himself like a man used to being obeyed. Izuku knew that look, no matter the person’s mother tongue. Their eyes met, and he spent several long moments struggling to tear his gaze away, struck by the power he saw.

“Penelope,” his uncle said, gathering Izuku up in his arms and kissing him soundly on his temple, just above the veil. Izuku dropped his gaze to the floor, tilting his head downward. His heart beat in his throat. “Come meet your new husband.”

“Why do you cover your face?” the chieftain asked, and his voice rumbled like ice breaking at the end of winter.

“My niece is shy,” his uncle replied easily. “Have no fear. I would not give you a hideous wife.” Izuku could feel the chieftain’s eyes leave him to study his uncle. “So, for the matter of the dowry,” he continued, releasing Izuku to stroll a few steps closer to the foreigners. “I understand you are not interested in land, but perhaps goats?”

“That’s not for you to decide.” 

His uncle nearly hid his irritation at the foreigner’s words, but his family was full of emotive people. When he smiled next, it was forced and unsettling.

“Of course. What is your asking price?”

“I am not interested in discussing that with you.”

“There is no one else permitted to decide what of my wealth will leave with my niece.”

“Let me explain,” the redheaded foreigner said, resting a hand on the chieftain’s shoulder. “In our tribe, it is customary for the bride and groom to negotiate terms. If she is to be a chieftain’s wife, she must be able to perform this kind of task.”

“I see.” Izuku could hear the stress in his uncle’s voice. “Like I said, she is quite shy and-“

“I’ll do it,” Izuku blurted, the words falling from him with about as much forethought as had guided his feet that morning. “I would be honored to.” He did his best to keep his voice light and soft. There were a few tense moments as Izuku, his uncle, and the servants all waited to see the foreigners’ reactions. The moment he spoke, the chieftain’s eyes had found him once more. Izuku found his fears fading under the weight of his curiosity. There was so much intelligence there, and passion. 

“Is there a place where we can have some slight privacy?” the chieftain asked, and Izuku answered without waiting for his uncle to reply.

“The garden,” he said. “We’ll be within sight, but our conversation will be private.” Assuming nobody snuck along the outer wall to be closer while remaining out of sight. The chieftain nodded, turning to his retinue. He spoke briefly in their original tongue, which Izuku understood well enough. His mother had been quite insistent he speak the languages of their neighbors at least well enough to understand and had looked long and hard to find the right instructors to teach him.

“Eijiro, with me. Iida, stay with the miser. See if you can’t get more information about the skirmishes on the eastern borders. Yaoyorozu’s clan will appreciate anything we can learn.”

“Of course,” the serious-looking foreigner said, stepping around the chieftain to engage Izuku’s uncle in conversation. He positioned his body to block his Uncle’s view of the doorway and keep his attention.

The chieftain gestured for Izuku to lead the way, which he did, the servant hot on his heels. Once they reached the garden, Izuku mustered an authority he hadn’t wielded since he was a child and then mostly in play and bade her wait in the house. The chieftain stepped forward to walk by his side as they crossed the garden, stopping just before reaching the shaded awning built onto the external wall.

“Do you know my name?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Izuku said apologetically.

“I’m Katsuki, of tribe Bakugou.”

“Well met.”

“Are you?” Katsuki’s eyes were sharp. “I know this is hardly a love match, but you look terrified. Are you being coerced?” Izuku reeled.

“You gather as much from my eyes alone?” he asked, wonder coloring his voice.

“They’re expressive.” Katsuki considered them. “They remind me of the forests of my home.”

“I’ve heard they are beautiful,” he said diplomatically. And dangerous. Katsuki hummed in agreement. “I’m not frightened of you,” he said, mostly meaning it. 

“Then what frightens you?”

“A poor deal.”

“It’s difficult to negotiate with someone you don’t know.”

“If the stakes were just my future, I wouldn’t be so concerned,” Izuku said, deciding to cut to the heart of the matter. Katsuki was right. He didn’t know enough, nor have enough power, to navigate this discussion with finesse. He would have to rely on this stranger’s kindness many times over.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about your uncle.”

“What? No. He’s…no. It’s my mother.” Katsuki gestured for him to continue. “She’s without a husband. If it’s…if it’s possible, I’d like to make sure some of my bride price goes to her. I know that will hurt your estate, but I swear I’ll work day and night to make up for it.”

Katsuki looked confused for a moment, then he shook his head. Izuku’s stomach sank.

“Your dowry is yours to do with as you please. You need not negotiate that with me. What we should discuss is what gift you would find appropriate from me and my family.”

Izuku’s head swam. When Katsuki noticed he was stunned, he explained.

“For my people, it is the husband’s job to build the wife’s wealth. When we wed, a portion of my land, herds, and goods will go to you, so that you might support yourself and our children should I fall in battle.” His face broke into a boyish, confident grin. “Not that there is a man alive who can best me.”

Izuku felt worse to hear this. 

“But surely you must want some of what my uncle offers,” he said. He hoped the value of the dowry might soften the blow when Katsuki learned Izuku was no woman and could provide no children.

“Take whatever with you that you wish,” he said dismissively. “I don’t need your uncle’s gifts to provide for my wife.”

“Then why marry me at all?” 

“Besides your expressive eyes?” he said, the grin widening. Izuku blushed and felt like an idiot for it. “And your education? And connections with an important agricultural trading post?” At least some of that was true, Izuku thought, his stomach sinking. He couldn’t tell Katsuki how little influence he held over the Midoriya family. “I think those are enough reasons.”

Izuku suspected there were more, but wasn’t about to press.

“Then I am satisfied,” he said. “I can do well with whatever you would like me to care for.” That was close enough to true, and he didn’t expect to maintain this ruse long enough to receive the gifts, regardless.

“So you are confident underneath the nerves. Good.”

“Family is important to me. It can eclipse reason when they’re threatened.”

Katsuki’s face settled into something more thoughtful. 

“That is something we have in common.”

“A good thing for a husband and wife to share.”

“Agreed. But tell me, future wife, have you no specific wishes? If you insist on taking whatever I give you, at least tell me one thing that would bring you joy.”

“Some animals and fields and I am more than content.”

“Come now. Let us be at least a little honest with each other.”

Izuku’s stomach turned. He liked this man, for as briefly as they’d known one another. He wished he could be more honest. In other circumstances, they might have been friends, as strange as that association would be.

“A dog?” he hedged. That was true and not too extravagant of an ask.

“Do you hunt?”

“Just small things. Rabbits and birds.”

“You did grow up on a farm. No matter, I can hunt for you.”

“Do women hunt where you are from?”

Katsuki waved a hand dismissively, but Izuku wasn’t sure what that meant. Had he been making a jest?

“Then consider our marriage negotiated. You’re terrible at this, but maybe once my tribe and I are your family, you will be inspired to do better on our behalf.”

“Perhaps,” Izuku said, then allowed himself to be escorted back into the villa, his mind whirling. He had to figure out what lies to tell his mother.

Izuku’s eyes and throat burned as bent over the table in the farmhouse where he and his mother lived. They shared it with three other laborers who had all gone to sleep long ago to meet the sun. Izuku was guiltily burning through the oil lamp, but he needed to finish his work before he left with Katsuki and his men in the morning. He ran his needle and thread through the chain once more, carefully picking his way through the links. He had already woven the thin necklace his mother had been given by his grandmother as part of her dowry to itself, tripling back so it was much shorter and thicker. Around that, he was sewing a thicker chain that had been part of a belt, spiraling it to make it more attractive. He had yet to figure out how he was going to attach the medallions at the end of the torc, but that was a problem for later.

He and his mother had cried themselves ragged as he told her he had found an apprenticeship elsewhere in the empire, and that he would need to leave in the morning to go with his new master. Without revealing the details, he had stressed how important it was that he take this opportunity because only people far enough away from the lands where they lived were unaware of their tainted family name. He told her his new master had paid for him in gold, and in order to really sell the story, that his uncle had kept the gold but agreed to grant his mother the land they had been working and all the goats that lived on it. Close enough to the truth. When Katsuki had told his uncle what to do with Izuku’s dowry, he’d nearly spat on the floor in front of Izuku’s feet. By the end of all the storytelling and weeping, they had drunk an awful lot of bad wine and made their voices raspy. 

When he had tentatively asked her for the necklace, she had given it to him without a second thought. 

“It holds only poor memories for me now,” she said. She hadn’t even asked what he wanted it for.

He wasn’t sure what had made him decide to make a gift. It wasn’t in either of their traditions to do so. Maybe it was in an effort to feel more masculine while being treated as a woman, to provide and prove himself in some way. Or perhaps it was a small symbol of gratitude for Katsuki’s role in changing his mother’s life forever. Whatever happened to him next, he could rest assured, knowing she would be cared for. He suspected she would even remarry, and with a dowry of a comfortable size, that her intended husband was quite poor wouldn’t matter. He was one of the laborers that lived with them, a former soldier and something of a war hero, if the stories his friends told weren’t an exaggeration.

He tied off the last stitch, then stood to stretch and take a brief break. He realized with a start that his oil lamp was nearly burned through. No sleep tonight, then. He had some methods to attach the medallions, but he suspected the answer would ultimately be a wire wrapping, and he didn’t want it to look shabby, so that was going to take a good while to weave so intricately. He didn’t have the proper tools for this kind of work, either, so he would need to see what he could scrounge up in the workshop. Should he put his woman’s clothing back on? He shook his head and decided against it. It was night, most were asleep, and the only thing that had been revealed to the foreigners were his eyes. He gathered up his project and padded out into the night, making his way towards the villa, or the agricultural buildings. 

To be safe, he skirted well away from the main house, weaving his way through olive trees and outbuildings to do so. When he saw the barn against the night sky, he relaxed, slowing his steps and making them more obvious. He didn’t want to startle a servant sleeping rough because of an early birth or a sick cow. He was so focused on being noisy that he didn’t notice the person standing outside until he nearly ran into them.

“Whoa!” they said, grabbing Izuku’s shoulders to help steady him. “Sorry to scare you.” He recognized the foreigner’s accent, and his heart pounded harder in his chest. Thank the Gods it wasn’t Katsuki.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning into an imitation of his mother’s regional accent. He also lowered his voice for good measure. He sounded slightly ridiculous, but all he had to do was get past this man and to the small smith workshop beyond him. “Rest well.” 

He turned to move past the man, but he held fast to Izuku’s shoulder.

“Sorry to ask this,” he said, sounding sheepish, “But could you take me back to the guest rooms? Or anywhere to sleep, really. I got all turned around.”

Izuku resisted the urge to groan.

“I can take you to the villa.”

“Is that where you were going?”

“No,” he admitted hesitantly. “I was going to the barn.”

“I can bed down there!”

“I am working on a project. I will make some noise.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can sleep through almost anything.”

“It’s a…personal matter.”

“Oh. Guess that’s why you’re doing it in the middle of the night.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I promise I won’t tell anyone. After today, you’ll probably never see me again.”

Izuku couldn’t even be angry. He suspected that his luck would look very much like this for many years to come, thanks to all of his deception. Without saying anything else, he grabbed the man’s elbow and guided him the rest of the way to their destination. He pulled the oil lamp he had brought from his bag and lit it with the low fire in the kiln. 

“The barn is right through there, if you want to go to sleep.” He kept the lamp away from his face as he gestured to the building in question.

“Can I stay for a while?”

“Of course,” he said, voice strained. He realized now that he was dealing with the red-headed foreigner. The best course of action was to proceed as though he had no company at all, turning his back and setting about finding tools to suit his project. He was disappointed that there was nothing suitable to use as a binding agent, so his suspicions were correct, and he would have to rely on wire work. He fetched a length of iron wire, some pliers, and a file and cleared a space on a workbench to set his oil lamp and get to work.

“What are you making?” The foreigner had come no closer, but his voice still made Izuku jump.

“It’s personal.”

“Right, I forgot. Can I help?”

“No. It’s important that I do this. It’s a gift.”

“Sure, I understand. I’ll keep quiet.”

He did not keep quiet. And despite himself, Izuku was lured into small talk with the friendly man, and then deeper discussion. The conversation made the time go quickly, and had the bonus of not allowing him the mental space to obsess over every detail, which likely resulted in a better product, or at least a product as good, but done more quickly. He learned a lot about this man’s view of the world. Eijiro, as he introduced himself, cared a lot about masculinity and what it meant to behave in an appropriately manly way, but his definition of what was manly didn’t always align with Izuku’s and also seemed to apply equally to all people, regardless of gender. He also coaxed him into talking about his beliefs, and learned about trolls that lived in the spaces of nature and Wotan, their wise god above other gods. He also learned more about types of cheeses than he had known there was to learn, as the man’s mother was apparently a very skilled cheese maker. 

When he had secured the last twist, he was once again saddened to think that he and this person may have been friends in a different lifetime.

“I must return to my home now,” he said. “Would you like to stay here? Or I could show you to the villa?” He didn’t want to, but he would, for this cheerful giant.

“Nah, I’ll stay here. Good night!”

Izuku nodded a farewell and made his way back to the farmhouse. He fell asleep quickly, assured that his uncle’s servants would wake him well before it was time for him to leave.

“I thought you knew how to ride,” Katsuki said, frowning at Izuku, who was in turn frowning at his horse, though it was hidden by his veil.

“I do,” he protested. He did not know how to mount a horse in this long tunic while remaining modest. “I don’t usually ride around men,” he hedged. “Would you…turn away?”

“We’re to be married,” Katsuki said flatly.

“Sure,” said Eijiro. “C’mon, it’s been less than a day since she met you. If she’s kept covered up like this for so long, it’ll be hard for her to relax about it.” He turned his back, standing next to the third of their party, Tenya. 

“If it sounds like you’re having trouble, I’m turning around,” Katsuki said with a warning tone before joining them.

Izuku sighed in relief and quickly pulled all the fabric draped around him to his hips, swinging his way up onto the horse. Once in the saddle, it took a moment to configure the fabric to provide the best coverage, but he covered all but his lower calves, which he considered a success. Calves were fairly genderless.

“I am finished,” he said. 

“Are you feeling well?” Tenya kindly asked, pausing at his horse’s side. Izuku cleared his throat. Maintaining his soft woman’s voice was harder after a long, long night that began with wine and weeping, but he did his best.

“I said goodbye to my mother last night.”

“Of course. Forgive my intrusive question.” Izuku watched him thoughtfully as he mounted his own horse. He spoke with a distinct accent from the others, and had a much stiffer manner. He wondered where he was from.

Once they set off, Eijiro was quick to share his observations and humor about their experience with Izuku’s family. Izuku was fairly certain that he had forgotten he understood him based on some of his observations. He wasn’t interested in correcting him, not wanting him to censor himself, and the more he talked and lured Katsuki and Tenya into conversation, the more space Izuku had to plan how he would confess.

He thought it best to do it soon to avoid accidental discovery, which he imagined would be much worse. However, he wanted it to be an inconvenience to turn around and punish his mother, lest she be blamed for her child’s misdeeds. So, he stayed quiet and listened and waited for the end of the day.

“I don’t know how they all wear so many layers,” Eijiro said, waving one hand around as he spoke, the other resting on his saddle. “It’s already so warm and spring has just begun. I’m glad you didn’t make us dress like them. I would’ve drenched it all with sweat.”

“You sweat in everything,” Katsuki said. “You find winter to be too warm.”

“That was just the once!” he said, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. “And my mother had piled too many furs on the bed.”

“And how does that explain running into the snow stark naked?” Katsuki asked.

Eijiro shrugged, his grin bright even from where Izuku rode behind them. 

“Well, nothing important froze off, so I guess it all worked out.”

Izuku couldn’t help it. He giggled.

“Oh? Is that what it takes to get you to laugh? Eijiro’s frozen testicles?” Katsuki commented dryly. “And here I was told you were educated.”

“Huh?” Eijiro said. Izuku had leaned forward over the neck of his horse to hold in his sleep-deprived mirth. “Wait, she can understand me?”

“Yes,” Izuku gasped. “Perfectly.”

Eijiro was very excited at this development and insisted Izuku speak to him in their language.

“My tutor wasn’t a native speaker, so my accent might be bad,” Izuku said shyly, his tongue forming carefully around the words. He hadn’t had many to practice with in recent years, and so the words were slow to come when he bid them. Eijiro and Katsuki teased him, but also gave good advice, and as the day wore on, the words came more and more easily.

When they stopped for the night, Izuku didn’t bother to make them avert their eyes. His truth was about to be exposed, anyway. His stomach rumbled, and he considered waiting until after they ate, but figured if he was going to die, it wouldn’t be of hunger. While Tenya cared for the horses and Eijiro refilled their water, Izuku stopped Katsuki before he could wander too far with his own chores.

“I have something I need to tell you,” he said. “May I have your ear?”

Katsuki gave him his full attention. Izuku felt, horribly, tears sting his eyes. These men seemed kind and reasonable, and yet his presence here was a terrible insult. It was hard to predict how a man might respond when insulted.

“First, I would like to thank you once more. Your generosity and kindness have changed my mother’s life forever. I could never have done that on my own. You are a good and honorable man.” He cleared his throat, pulling the torc from his bag. “This is a gift. Personally, from my hands to yours. It is made of items best left forgotten into something new. I hope you can find some small use for it.” He cleared his throat once more and took a shuddering breath. When he spoke again, he dropped the feminine affectation from his voice. 

“My name is not Penelope. My name is Izuku, and I am the former Midoriya heir, disgraced when my father left without a word. I am so, so humbly sorry for participating in this deception.” He pulled the veil away from his face, only vaguely aware of the sound of fabric tearing. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks. “I went to my father asking that he sell me into your labor, because none would have me, and he bade me dress like a woman in exchange for my mother’s freedom and security. Still, that is no excuse for my role in the charade and I am made even more sorry that I cannot regret my choices. I would do it again. My mother means everything to me.” 

He meant to go on, to prostrate himself, but his words choked there and he was left helpless, sobbing softly, his hand trembling where he held out the torc. He had hoped to be more adult about his confession, but he was so tired and his world had changed so much in such a short time. In the end, he had no pride left to protect. The best he could manage was to keep his gaze on Katsuki’s face and not try to turn away from the consequences of his actions.

When Katsuki reached for him, he flinched, but all he did was wrap his warm hand around Izuku’s, closing it around the torc. 

“It is best to exchange these gifts at the wedding.”

The words are calm, and his gaze is steady, but Izuku can feel the fury sparking off of him. Katsuki reached up, his hand hovering over Izuku’s face, before drawing away. 

“Wash up,” he growled. “You look a fucking mess.” 

He stomped away and Izuku was left nearly as uncertain as before.

The rest of the journey was uncomfortable. Eijiro and Tenya did their best to be kind, but it was clear they also were unsure what Katsuki was thinking. Izuku tried to focus on the enjoyable things, like watching the landscape change and not having to soften his voice or move his body modestly. It took a few days for Eijiro to realize he had been the person he’d found in the fields, and he had laughed so hard at the coincidence that Izuku was even also coaxed into a little smile. If it hadn’t been so stressful, it would’ve been fairly humorous.

He had traveled a little, in his youth, but mostly south towards Rome. He had only been to the city once, when he was very small. His only memory of it was that he had cried when he couldn’t see the hills for all the densely packed town houses. He had felt trapped and like the world had been shaved away into a tiny piece of pavement and all the people of the world were piling onto it. 

There was no concern about such fears out here. 

Tenya patiently explained his questions about the new environs as they encountered animals and plants that were unfamiliar to him. There weren’t many, which felt strange. The space outside of the empire had always seemed so strange and wild. To find so much that he recognized was a surprise.

He also did his best to help, now that they weren’t treating him like a flower. The snares he made caught more than a few rabbits for dinner. He helped Eijiro prepare the fires when they made them. He was also good at identifying herbs that helped to elevate their meals. All of this helped to assuage some of his guilt, though it festered behind his breast.

When they finally reached the fields of Katsuki’s home, Izuku was surprised to see the rows were tended, but only just beginning to sprout.

“Did something happen?” he asked Tenya, brow furrowing in concern.

“What do you mean?” 

“The fields. They’re so young.”

“I understand what you’re saying now. No, nothing happened. Winter lingers longer in our part of the world. We plant as soon as the soil is workable.”

“Workable?”

“It freezes, and then is soaked while the snow melts.”

Izuku had always assumed the tales of the harsh winters of other lands had been exaggerated. He had trouble imagining a cold so deep it froze the earth. 

“Your cows are so furry!” he said suddenly, leaning forward in his saddle to peer ahead at them with wide eyes. “Like a dandelion!”

Eijiro laughed, agreeing heartily and extolling the virtues of their coats. Izuku flushed, settling back into his seat. As the days wore on and Katsuki continued to let him live, he had let his guard drop. He glanced guiltily at Katsuki’s back, but as always, he ignored Izuku and anyone speaking with him.

When the top of a large hill came into view, a large wooden building sat atop it and framed by trees, Eijiro let him know their journey was nearly over.

“That’s the mead hall,” he said. “That is where everyone will gather to be introduced to you tonight. I’ll show you the rest of the settlement when we get closer.”

“How many live here?”

“We’ve got thirteen households,” he said proudly. “We’re the largest settlement for miles. The next nearest has only six.”

“I see,” Izuku said. A community size similar to what he was used to, probably. Housed closer together, but given what he’d learned about the winters, that was sensible.

Children ran and crowded around the horses when they arrived, shouting and cheering. Izuku was surprised when Katsuki reached down and pulled one of them up onto the horse, settling her in front of him and keeping his arms bracketed around her so she wouldn’t fall while she continued to flail and express her excitement. His heart softened at the image. Katsuki would make a good father someday, despite his gruff exterior.

Izuku was ushered to the mead hall and told to stay put. There were women there already preparing the evening’s meal, and they stole glances but were told in no uncertain terms to leave him alone, so they did. Izuku’s stomach flipped as he waited uncertainly for what would happen next. Not even his curiosity about the women’s unfamiliar cooking methods and ingredients could calm his fluttering heart.

He finally couldn’t sit still any longer, and asked if he could have some water to wash his face and hands. He was mud splattered and road worn, but he could do his best to be presentable when Katsuki made whatever proclamation he was going to make. After he washed, he settled by the large hearth to dry. It was the most comfortable he’d been in weeks and he ended up falling asleep, stretched out on the floor, as content as a cat in a sunbeam.

The bustle of people entering the hall, ready for their dinner, woke him. He yawned and stretched, feeling a little self-conscious. He scrambled to where he had been told to stay, his cheeks going pink to find Katsuki and Eijiro already sitting there. Katsuki looked him over but said nothing, neither to reassure nor admonish him. Izuku decided the silence was worse than a scolding would be. He moved to sit next to Eijiro, but he shooed him away and told him to take the seat next to Katsuki. He sat carefully, feeling intensely self-conscious as he folded and refolded his hands in his lap.

The hall continued to fill, and the women and servants laid out food. Piles of grains, bread, cheese, and root vegetables filled the table. It smelled unfamiliar, but not unappetizing. He politely thanked the woman who served him, who turned out to be Eijiro’s wife. She smiled warmly at him.

“Of course. This must be overwhelming.” Her light red hair haloed her face in curls where it wasn’t braided down. “I’m Mina. Well met!”

“Well met,” he said. These people were so kind. He had expected more of an uproar at his arrival, but to a person, they appeared to be following Katsuki’s lead. Where there was no guidance, they chose kindness, or at least polite curiosity. He was sure that had he been on the arm of a senator calling himself betrothed, his people would not have been so gentle with their welcome.

Once the women had also settled at the long tables, Katsuki stood. Eijiro scrambled to his feet after him, loudly calling for silence so Katsuki could address the hall.

“This is Izuku. He is to be my wife. When we are married, treat him as an extension of my family and my authority.” He turned his head slowly, looking for any protests or reactions. The hall remained quiet until he sat once more, and conversations resumed. 

Izuku’s mind spun. This answered one question, but raised many more. He picked at his food and did his best to respond to Eijiro and Mina’s hearty congratulations. Throughout the evening, he continued to steal glances at Katsuki. Was he even attracted to men? Izuku flushed at his own presumption. Katsuki’s attraction didn’t matter. Katsuki was the chieftain and the husband, and so need not ever share their marriage bed. He found himself a little disappointed to think of sleeping in a lonely bed every night for the rest of his life, but shook it off. It was a better alternative than many of the outcomes his uncle’s treachery had invited. 

As the meal wound down and Katsuki’s people separated to return to their family homes or gather in smaller groups for games or conversation, Izuku found himself at a loss for what to do. He remained sitting awkwardly in his seat, not daring to rise without Katsuki’s leave. He wasn’t interested in drawing attention to himself by asking permission, so he stewed in his anxiety. At least it was of a different flavor than the previous weeks.

“Take a walk with me,” Katsuki said abruptly. “We should talk.” Izuku stumbled over the bench in his hurry to obey. Even if all Katsuki wanted to do was lecture him, it should answer at least some of the questions spinning through his mind. He followed close behind as they left the mead hall, stepping down off the raised platform and into the night. When they reached the edge of the settlement, Katsuki bade Izuku sit, which he did. He turned to face the horizon, unfamiliar with its askew stars and the thick tangle of a dark forest.

“I apologize for not speaking to you sooner. I had much to consider and decide, and could not do it with your eyes on me.” Katsuki settled down next to him, his body relaxed and graceful despite the formality in his voice.

“I am not sure what it means to be a chieftain’s wife.”

“You will lead the women, and care for our home, herds, lands, and children.”

“Children?”

“Yes.”

“So you will take lovers?” Izuku wasn’t sure why that made his stomach hurt. There was no space to be jealous. 

“That is not the husband I wish to be. We are a clan. Children lose parents to illness or injury. We can take them as our own.”

Izuku turned to stare at Katsuki.

“Do you- I mean.” He was struggling to form the words. “Will we be friends?” 

“I think we already are. I don’t hate you, anyway, though I probably should.”

“I think you’re very admirable,” Izuku said honestly, his voice catching in his throat. “Do your people allow this kind of marriage?”

“I don’t care whether it’s been done before,” Katsuki said dismissively. “If the Gods can be what they wish and marry as they wish, so can I. So can you.”

Izuku hummed. Agreeing felt like an invitation for mischief from the Gods, but he couldn’t deny the excitement running through his veins.

“Do you find men attractive?” 

“Yes,” Katsuki said. The admission was calm, with no hint of discomfort. “In the end, that decided me. I have always preferred the beauty of men, but I planned to take a wife for the sake of my mother’s bloodline. When my bride happened to be a man with eyes that reflected the forests of my home back at me from a beautiful Quirite face, it seemed obvious to me that the Gods had intervened.”

“I see.” Izuku was overwhelmed. “Then you wish to be lovers?”

“I freely offer myself as your husband, and all that means. Protection, family, and a warm bed.”

Izuku swallowed hard. 

“I have never considered what it might mean to be a wife,” he said. “But I am grateful to offer myself as yours, and all that it means.”

They sat quietly then, gazing at each other like moonstruck idiots. Izuku’s eyes watered with relief and wonder. Katsuki reached for his face and this time did not hesitate, cupping his chin and gently wiping the tear with his thumb.

“You’re so small,” he said. “Your uncle said you are nineteen. Is that true?” Izuku nodded. “Young, for a wife. It will have to be another odd thing about our marriage.”

Izuku snorted an ugly laugh, his hand flying to his face as he laughed again in surprise. Katsuki slid his hand up into Izuku’s curls, his eyes flitting over Izuku’s tear stained, horrified, and amused face.

“I’ve wanted to touch your hair since you first uncovered it,” he said.

Izuku leaned into his touch, moving his hand to wrap gently around Katsuki’s wrist. He shyly slid it ever so slightly up his arm until it was stopped by the fabric there. Katsuki’s eyes darkened, then he rose to his feet.

“Come. I should bring you to Chiyo’s home, where you will spend the night.”

Izuku slept fitfully, though Chiyo was kind and had prepared a comfortable bed for him. He was already awake and debating whether he should try to be helpful when Mina threw open the door with a joyful cry that was uncomfortably loud in the dark of the early morning.

“It’s your wedding day!” she said gleefully, bounding over to where he was sitting on the bed. He glanced guiltily towards Chiyo, but she continued to snore. “Come, we have a lot to do before the ceremony.” She grabbed his hands and pulled him out the door.

They ate a quick breakfast of honeyed yogurt and bread before Izuku was told to strip and enter a small house. He pulled aside the wall hanging that served as a door and balked immediately, finding the wooden benches full of nude women. 

“I can’t go in there!” he hissed, holding up his tunic to cover his nakedness. Mina laughed brightly, showing no embarrassment as she disrobed. 

“You must sweat out impurities,” she said. “We are to be your bridesmaids, so we will sweat and bathe with you, and tell you all we have learned of being a wife and mother.”

She pushed Izuku back into the sauna ahead of her. He awkwardly sat on a bench, as far from touching anyone else as he could manage. While he never forgot his nakedness or discomfort for the rest of the ritual, he slowly relaxed as the women around him made no issue of it. 

In his role as the chieftain’s wife, he would be expected to attend births and to perform all other tasks that were women’s domain. In one morning, he learned more about childbirth than he’d ever thought to know, and some embarrassing but interesting suggestions on how to please his husband. He knew he’d be learning more of both from now on. More importantly, he learned much more about what made a good wife, and what the women of the tribe would expect from him. Everyone in here, at least, had decided his role was more important than his gender.

“It may take some time for people to adjust, but they will,” a woman named Ochako reassured him. “They will follow Katsuki’s lead, and we will do our best to help you learn what you need to so that nobody can find fault with your work.”

“Thank you,” Izuku said, overwhelmed. 

“And the kids will love all the fresh stories you have,” Mina said brightly. “Winning over their children will make anyone here warm up to you.”

Izuku took note, his heart as warm and loose as his body from the sauna. He hoped that spending time in the sauna wasn’t only for special occasions. 

They dressed him in the bridal clothes his uncle had, surprisingly, sent with him, or perhaps it was the generous gesture of one of the servants in spite of his uncle. It was shaped similarly to the women’s dress he had been disguised in, but woven with more threads and thus it draped elegantly. The cream color of the mantle complimented his hair and skin beautifully and would prevent catching a chill in the spring air.

Izuku was bent over, adjusting the strap of his sandal, when the women began protesting loudly behind him.

“What are you doing here? Begone!” Their voices were light-hearted but commanding.

“I swear Katsuki is not with me!” Eijiro said, laughing as he raised an arm to defend himself from Mina’s playful smacks. “Izuku needs to select a sword.”

“His family didn’t send him with one?” Ochako asked, sounding affronted.

“He did not. That’s all right, though - I wouldn’t trust a sword sent by that deceiver, anyway. Roman craftsmanship is good, but I wouldn’t have my chieftain’s life depend on it.”

After leveling the women with many promises that Katsuki was secured and would remain out of line of sight, Eijiro led Izuku to the smith’s workshop. Their tribe was lucky to have a talented blacksmith, and he had a few swords set aside for trade that he was more than willing to share with a grateful Izuku.

He took the task seriously, lifting each sword to feel its weight and balance, and studying it closely for the quality of work. 

“This one is best, I think,” he said. It was a little longer than he thought would be best for Katsuki, but the steel was of good quality and the balance was excellent. He looked up to see the blacksmith’s surprised face.

“Perhaps there are benefits to a Quirite bride,” he said approvingly. Izuku flushed, ducking his head in appreciation.

He and his bridesmaids returned to Chiyo’s house after he made his selection. She was standing in as his family since he had none to represent him today. He didn’t mind at all. Nobody here made him feel lonely or lacking. A part of him wished his mother could be here, but another part wasn’t sure she would accept his role as bride as easily as these people had. He was glad that he could focus on meeting his tribespeople and taking the steps forward into a new way of life instead of convincing her that this was truly what he wanted, and that he would be safe and happy here. That could all be saved for another time.

They passed the time with a light lunch, and they chattered as if it were a normal day. A lot of it was simple gossip and opinions, but it felt friendly and welcoming. Izuku didn’t offer any thoughts, though he responded to questions and teasing about his upcoming wedding night. He was feeling warm, happy, and excited when it was time to walk to the marriage site.

A nearby hill was kept tidy and well-tended as a space for communal work, outdoor gatherings, or rituals like their wedding. When they arrived, Izuku allowed himself a moment to blatantly admire Katsuki in his finely tailored trousers and beautiful red cloak, his arms adorned with newly sewn sleeves of orange fabric. He was handsome and vibrant, his pale skin and hair well suited for the rich colors. Izuku smiled shyly when their eyes met while they waited for Chiyo, who was pacing the circle with a burning torch, asking the flame to purify and prepare the space for the gods.

“Hail Freya, mother and winter star. We ask that you bless this space so that the vows spoken here bind the bride and groom in a productive and harmonious marriage. Hail Freya, cat chariot riding and passion abiding. We ask that you guide this bride with wisdom of the seidh, and grant this groom the strength to protect and provide.”

She then turned to Izuku. 

“Are there any Gods you would like to invite?”

“I have already been generously gifted by Fortuna, I would not dare to ask for more.”

“Very well.” She cleared her throat and spread her arms before her, palm up. “We are gathered here to witness the oaths between Katsuki of tribe Bakugou, and Izuku of the Midoriya family. When they leave this space, they will be as one family, forging together all who came before into all who will come after.” The ceremony continued, outlining the dowry, which was more than generous. 

They exchanged swords. Katsuki gave him his ancestral sword, charging Izuku to keep it safe for their sons. Izuku gave Katsuki the new sword and charged him to keep their family and tribe safe with it. 

They exchanged oaths, calling on Vár and Sancus to bind them to their promises of fidelity and protection. Katsuki included his intention to open their household for children that needed parents and shelter and to take them in as blood of their own, to which Izuku eagerly agreed. Izuku added an oath of companionship and council.

Izuku was surprised when, after a ring was offered to him on the hilt of Katsuki’s new sword, Mina handed him a second ring intended for Katsuki’s hand. “As I own you, so you own me,” he said softly when Izuku looked at him in confusion. 

Katsuki gave Izuku a ring of keys, as he was now in charge of not only their household, but the shared resources of the tribe. Izuku received them with a steady hand, securing it immediately to his belt. Katsuki let his fingers trail down Izuku’s hand and grasp his fingers in a firm hold. Both of their palms were sweaty, but neither minded.

“I declare these two wed!” Chiyo said enthusiastically, and then Eijiro was bringing Katsuki a horse and Izuku was tossed up on it behind him for their ride back to the mead hall. Katsuki let the horse navigate, well familiar with the land, and turned Izuku so that he could kiss him soundly on the mouth. It was clumsy, but warm and loving. Izuku wound his arms around Katsuki’s neck and drew him into another, softer kiss, full of promise.

The feast passed in a blur of mead, dancing, and being greeted by each of the tribespeople. There were too many faces and names for him to remember in just one night, but he would study them. He learned why Tenya sounded so different. He had come here as the vassal of a Gaul druid who fled his abusive father and found himself here. Shoto wasn’t very expressive, but greeted Izuku warmly. He hoped he might be an ally for days when he felt more a stranger than a tribesperson.

Though, for tonight at least, he felt more at home than he had since he was a child. 

When the night ended, he and Katsuki were too exhausted and drunk to do much more than strip to their skin and crawl into bed, pressed together tightly but chastely.

The next morning, Chiyo came to witness the final gift. She seemed surprised that Izuku had a torc to give, which Katsuki immediately put around his neck. It was far from perfect craftsmanship, and Izuku expressed shyness about the inconsistency of his work. 

“This gift represents so much of what I like about you,” Katsuki said plainly. “Your honesty, hard work, and resourcefulness. Your consideration and the family that has made you who you are.” 

Izuku had to wipe his tears away to see the gift that Katsuki offered him, and when he did, his heart nearly stopped. It was a ruby and pearl encrusted amulet, likely worth more than he, or even his uncle, would see in ten lifetimes.

“I can’t take this!” he choked out, but Katsuki folded his fingers over it. 

“It’s important that you have this, in case of anything happening to me. Nothing can take it from you - not my death, not our heirs, and not divorce. This is security, so that you never need to lie or risk your life to secure your future again.”

Izuku drew him into a salty kiss, and Chiyo chuckled, pronounced the gift giving complete, and left them with a pitcher of mead. They were to drink it all for the next lunar cycle as a blessing to the start of their marriage.

“I do not know what I’m doing,” Izuku said, voice shaking with emotion. “But I’ll do my best. For you and your people.”

“I’ll keep you in line,” Katsuki said, a deep blush staining his cheeks. Izuku could feel Katsuki’s heart pounding in his chest from where his hand lay over it. Izuku grinned at him, then pulled him into another kiss, then another, and another, lost in a wave of unfamiliar elation.