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This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
It was just a routine run. It wasn’t supposed to be anything big, nothing special. Nothing more than a mandatory check on their information network.
Yes, it was knee deep in enemy territory, and yes, the level of stealth involved meant that Keigo was the only suitable spy of enough ranking and skill to make the check in. No, that didn’t mean his father didn’t make a face at having to send out the Prince of Thieves for a fucking milk run, but it wasn’t like it was something Keigo had never done.
But this - this…
This couldn’t be happening.
It wasn’t even the first time he’d run into Dabi on this kind of errand. Yes, the Crown Prince was a menace, the blue-flame the pyromancer wielded uniquely qualified as Keigo’s worst weakness. Yes, the bastard had set himself as Keigo’s counterpart in the decade-long struggle between the League his kingdom supported and the numerous flocks that sought protection under the Thief King’s aegis. But it was nothing that Keigo couldn’t deal with.
But this -
No. No. No, this wasn't happening. This couldn't possibly be happening.
Dabi was gawping at him, stance stilling from poised ready to throw lethal washes of blue fire in any direction he chose to something utterly stunned. Utterly uncharacteristic of the sharp, calculating bastard who'd faced off against him for years.
Just as uncharacteristic as Keigo's own reaction, he knew. Keigo, who'd gone ashen when he'd locked onto fire-bright blue-blue-blue that's why the only color he could see was blue eyes, and had the world explode into full color.
This couldn't be happening, he thought, hysterical.
But this was the first time they'd brushed against each other, skin against skin, since Keigo turned 21 and came of age. This was the first time they'd locked eyes with each other, the first time they'd fought against each other, first time they'd encountered each other since Keigo's 21st birthday not even a month ago.
It damn well could be happening.
But shit for this fuck all timing.
If it had been them running into each other at a neutral village, if it had been them mid-battle but with others around them, if it had been anything where Keigo could have maybe an inkling more of an advantage….
If it had been anything, anything at all, other than Keigo in the middle of enemy territory, alone with his obsessive enemy turned obsessive soulmate.
Soulmates were sacred in so many ways and cultures, but the flocks were practical creatures at heart. Not everyone found their soulmate. Not everyone who met and bonded with their soulmate had a happy relationship.
Soulmates, to Keigo’s people, were like the spark to the flame. They were the brightest, most beautiful potential to create a strong, solid foundation - to creating a passionate, everlasting relationship. But it depended entirely on what you put into that fire, what you fed that flame. What was a relationship built on? Soulmates weren’t perfect, they weren’t guaranteed a perfectly happy life with no complications - because shit, life just didn’t work like that.
Soulmates weren’t a magical cure-all. You had to put in fucking effort. Build the fire with the right tinder, the well-seasoned firewood, the appropriate herbs to flavor and strengthen it up. The spark was what created the relationship, but what people put into it was what made it great.
So, maybe Keigo wasn’t entirely surprised that his world had erupted into full bloom the moment they’d locked eyes. Maybe it wouldn't have been pure dread that filled him at the realization if circumstances were different. If their people weren’t at war, if they weren’t enemies…. The loss of soulmate potential was painful, like ripping out his feathers just after his molt when they were tender and sore and bled for days at the mistreatment. But Keigo would sacrifice it, if he had to, like he’d sacrificed so much of his life to defend what he cared for.
Dabi, on the other hand… Keigo didn’t need the half-decade of experience in reading the other man’s body language to recognize the awe and madness that brimmed in blue eyes.
Keigo’s people believed soulmates were nature’s signs - a person’s best potential relationship, no matter its nature.
Dabi’s people - the Todoroki Family alone - considered soulmates sacred. The Todoroki family, who were obsessive and possessive, and had once started a decade-long war because of the one that got away.
And with the way Dabi’s eyes had started glowing, the way his gaze hadn’t left Keigo despite the threat of incoming hostiles behind them, the way his posture shifted as if he was about to move to close the distance between them - as if he was about to ignore ten years of war, the shit they’d done to each other, the way they’d hurt each other just because of a magical roll of the dice… yeah no.
Keigo was so unbelievably fucked if he got caught. So, he couldn’t get caught.
He r e f u s e d .
“No,” he said, voice gone and hoarse, halting Dabi in his tracks even with the flush of warmth from their first bonding glowing within him. He shook his head, eyes not leaving his brilliant blue counterparts as they widened, then narrowed as Dabi's sharp mind started to process what Keigo might do.
“No,” he said, again, thinking of five years fighting against each other, fighting for their causes, for their own safety to protect what they loved. Thinking of injuring each other, of singling one another out of a crowd of thousands, of nearly two years of spontaneous hate sex when the moment came and they settled their battles in other ways. Thinking of what it would mean to falter in the face of Dabi and the League and the utter relentlessness of them all, what it would mean to be Dabi’s in a world that took-took-took -
“No,” he said, a final time, thought and intent crystalizing in his mind, as every part of him went still.
"Birdie," Dabi growled, eyes narrowed in threat as he took a step forward, as if to cross the distance, and Keigo's body jolted like he'd been lightning struck, “don’t you dare - ”
Keigo ran.
He pivoted on one heel, throwing himself full tilt into the direction he’d come from and launching himself around the corner with not an ounce of caution. Heedless of the danger he’d been fleeing from, and all too aware of the powerful pyromancer who was swearing viciously enough to color the air blue in hot pursuit behind him.
Instincts and nearly two decades of training branded memory into muscles and bones, and in that moment, it saved him.
A palace guard rounded the corner, the one leading the pack, and in sheer instinct, he redirected his momentum. One foot hit the wall, arm reaching out to catch the crown molding at the top of the opposite wall as he pushed off, and up-up-up he went -
Wings snapped outwards, sending him skywards and away-away-away from enemies and fate alike chasing him down.
Of course he got caught. Of fucking course he did. He didn’t even get 24 godsdamned hours before he was tumbling out of the sky and hauling himself away from a preternaturally determined pyromancer and a world gone mad in the meantime.
It’s like the idiot had forgotten about nearly a decade worth of fighting, half that in their own personal enmity, and how many times Keigo had nearly ripped his throat out. And fuck it, but the hate sex wasn’t that good for this complete 180 personality shift.
That’s a lie, it was fantastic. Would Keigo ever admit it? Nope.
But the moment the asshole had found out they were soulmates - Keigo grimaced. They’d hardly be the first soulmate pair to manifest and bond on opposite sides of a war. Hell, they’d hardly be the first to be so highly ranked. That didn’t change that there were countless factors that kept their peoples at odds - and the two of them alone might not be enough to change it. Much less with all the blood they’d shed between the two of them.
He’d forgotten how fucking obsessive Todorokis could be.
And now, here he was. Leg broken, feathers scattered to the winds leaving him with no chance of flight until they regrew, bruised and aching bone deep with exhaustion tugging at his soul. And on top of that -
“Put me down,” he demanded through gritted teeth, limbs twitching with the urge to run, “ Now.”
He received a derisive snort in return.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands, Princess,” Dabi drawled, blue eyes burning with a mix of smug triumph and a dark anger as he smirked down at him.
Now, here he was. Trapped in his enemy’s - his soulmate’s - arms as if he hadn’t run from the other man like the hounds of hell were on his tail just yesterday.
Keigo squirmed as the grip around him tightened, the indignity of being carried like a godsdamned princess making him scowl almost as much as he had when he’d noticed the enchanted red-red-red marriage rope he’d been tied up in.
A fucking marriage rope, like this had been an actual bride hunt that had been mutually agreed upon, instead of Dabi hunting him through the corner of three different kingdoms, terrorizing five small villages, and making a deal with a troop of bandits to shoot Keigo straight out of the sky.
The fall had gotten his leg, the fire had taken his wings, and the frantic hunt and ambush had gotten him.
And now, here he was.
“Getting the silent treatment, am I now, pretty bird?” Keigo clenched his jaw, teeth all but grinding down as he swallowed down the vicious retort he wanted to level at the other man. He didn’t turn to glare at bright blue eyes, even if there was nothing short of divine interference that would’ve been able to keep the scowl off his face. Dabi only chuckled at the snub, grip tightening almost painfully, but he kept walking.
He walked straight through the outer edges of the forest - not far from where Keigo had been shot down - and right into the village, utterly unfazed by the abrupt attention of the townspeople around them.
Keigo saw the way the villagers did outright double takes the moment they caught sight of them and the way Dabi strode through the village - bold as brass and just as shameless about the bruised and bloodied man tied up in his arms. Hell, some of them even started walking in their direction, brows furrowed and mouths set.
Until someone else inevitably pulled them away, voices low and urgent - but Keigo could hear them all the same. Hear them just as much as he could see where their stares darted next.
To the red-red-red marriage rope bound snugly around his wrists and up his arms. The same red-red-red that his feathers were, when he had feathers. The same red-red-red as the flush that was creeping up Keigo’s face when the stares turned flustered and then turned away.
Marriage hunt, they whispered, and he could practically feel the smugness ooze from the asshole holding him.
It wasn’t a fucking marriage hunt, he wanted to scream. Only, he had to settle for seething in Dabi’s arms because his leg was broken and wrapped in a makeshift cast, his wings were ashen and scattered to the winds, and even if he did manage to get on his own feet, he was easy prey.
But if the bastard didn’t stop being so fucking smug, Keigo was going to bite him.
Where the fuck had Dabi had the time to
get
an enchanted marriage rope in the first place, anyways?! Because if he’d had it on him the
entire godsdamned time,
Keigo was about to be concerned for another reason entirely.
Dabi strode straight into the nearest nice-looking Inn, and Keigo twitched when everyone in the tavern level turned to look at them and then hastily turned away, faces red. And then bit back another twitch when the Innkeeper just handed Dabi a key to one of their special rooms - turning to look pointedly at Keigo and the red-red-red rope he was trussed up in before looking back - and let them walk off. He was all but steaming by the time Dabi kicked open the door and let it slam behind them, dropping Keigo onto the bed without any extra fanfare.
Keigo bit back the muffled yelp that came from landing wrong on his leg, and pushed himself upright as best he could while Dabi secured the room. By the time the pyromancer turned back to him, Keigo was perched just so to keep anything from hurting too much and his face was unreadable. Even when Dabi stepped closer, intent in his posture that had his hackles rising.
“You touch me,” Keigo said placidly, teeth gleaming in his smile, “and I will rip your throat out. Soulmate or not.”
“Easy dove,” Dabi smirked, raising his hands as if to say, who, me? “I wouldn’t dare. Willing is the only way it’s worth it.”
“Then what,” he said, still deceptively calm, “the fuck was this?” He stretched his arms out in front of him best he could, still twitchy from the feeling of his magic bubbling up under his skin, held in lock and key by the enchantment on the rope. His leg, still numb from the healing balm Dabi had applied in the forest, and wrapped tight to mitigate any damage until he could get it healed, twitched as he tried to straighten it. The absence of his wings rustling was loud in the silence.
Dabi shrugged, making the danger level in Keigo’s blood boil hotter, before leveling the avian with a piercing glare.
“You were the one who bolted before we could talk about this,” he reminded them both, gesturing between them, “otherwise we could have done this far more peacefully.”
Keigo scowled, “And what, exactly, does us being soulmates change about the war?” he demanded icily.
Dabi’s gaze almost glowed, eyes aglow with the force of his reaction.
“While you might be too duty bound to see what doors this opens for us,” Dabi drawled, leaning into Keigo’s space - but just at the wrong angle to be in range for a lunge, damn it, “I am not.” Dabi’s smile was mirthless and utterly ruthless, and a part of Keigo recoiled from being the focus of that utterly predatory gaze.
The other part, the predator, bristled as he rose to meet it.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said, gold and blue locked, unflinching, “I’m going to get a healer to see you, and then, once you’re healed, I’ll undo the enchantment and let you go home. On one condition.”
Keigo felt his stomach drop.
“What kind of condition?” he demanded, and oh, he didn’t like that look on Dabi’s face.
A hand reached out and curled delicately around Keigo’s jaw, tightening until it was like an anchor, holding him in place.
“You’re going to go to your father, and the High Council,” Dabi said, each word falling like a weight on his shoulders, “and you’re going to tell them to offer a ceasefire and an alliance with the League. And if you don’t,” he added, when Keigo sucked in a shocked breath, too horrified to speak as the implications screamed at him, “then the next time you leave the stronghold, I’ll find you - and as my soulmate, I will always be able to find you - and I’ll take you with me.” A brutal smirk crossed tattooed lips, “And then your people lose their greatest asset and their only bargaining chip against the League. Either way, I’ll have you.”
Where you belong, Dabi didn’t say, but didn’t have to say. Not when Keigo knew all too well the drive of possessive, obsessive Todorokis. And if he hadn’t before, then the last 24 hours of absolute madness had been a fucking masterclass in it.
Dabi leaned back - fully out of biting range, Keigo’s furious mind acknowledged as his conscious thought still reeled - and studied the expression on his face.
“That’s my condition, pretty bird,” he said, tone utterly unyielding, “agree to the alliance proposal or I’ll just take you home with me right now.”
This was - this was…
Something Keigo definitely should have seen coming. Fucking obsessive Todorokis. It hadn’t even been a single godsdamned day.
Dabi was so damned lucky the enchanted rope put a leash on his magic. Keigo hadn’t lost every feather to violent blue flames, after all.
Pushing the thought of violence to the back of his mind - and mildly concerned at the intensity of the urge that had started plaguing him since this whole shitshow began - Keigo mulled over the ultimatum. Jaw clenched and tense muscles deliberately lax as he ran through the options, alternatives, loopholes - very few - that he could think of while blue-blue-blue eyes watched him with piercing intensity. He ran through contingencies - when his backup team would realize he’d missed check-in and come looking - ran through escape routes, a self-assessment of his own condition, of Dabi’s and the available resources while stuck in enemy territory….
Keigo carefully didn’t wince when he considered the rundown of his options.
Keigo didn’t wince, but Dabi knew exactly how to read him.
“Figured it out?” the pyromancer said, smile manic-wide and too- too smug for Keigo’s tastes. The same smile took on a condescending edge that had the fury bubbling in his veins boiling white hot like starfire. “Gonna be good for me, birdie?” he drawled, reaching out to pat him on the cheek in a mockery of a warm caress.
Oh no. Oh, hell fucking no.
He would not be fucking condescended to by his soulmate.
Keigo lunged.
The yelp as Dabi yanked himself away and tumbled to the ground was fucking music to his ears, and Keigo looked at his enemy-lover-soulmate with blood dripping down his lips, and smiled. A bold thing, baring teeth and little else.
He’d warned him, after all.
“Fine,” he said, as Dabi groaned and picked himself up from the ground, blue eyes fastening on him the moment he spoke. “Fine, I’ll take the damn deal. But don’t you think for one second that I’m going to make it easy on you.”
Dabi, instead of glaring, irate, at him, leveled him with a fucking grin. Manic and smug and absolutely fucking delighted in a way that made Keigo twitch. Why did Keigo always get the crazy ones to deal with?
“Not a problem, dove,” Dabi said, grinning, “I look forward to it.”
Keigo should’ve bitten him harder.
Golden eyes glared at him from atop the shimmering dancer's veil. It was red, Dabi noted, red and just sheer enough to hint at the scowl hidden away under the fabric from where he sat across the negotiation table.
Red, he thought, suited his soulmate all too well. But he wondered what the golden-hued prince would look like draped in blue. Dabi's blue.
Well, he mused wryly, if we get our way, I'll find out soon enough.
Keigo had been true to his word - not that Dabi had doubted him, what with the threat he’d leveled the other man with if he’d dared otherwise. The Thief King, furious and brimming with it, had reached out to the League to negotiate a ceasefire and an alliance.
And everyone knew - everyone knew - that Avians only consolidated alliances in one way.
Marriage.
And as a newly discovered, highly ranked soulmate pair - Dabi and Keigo were the obvious choice for such a unifying match.
It was obvious and inevitable, even if Keigo hated how he’d been trapped into it. Dabi had his work cut out for him, to get his soulmate to simmer down into something other than caged fury. But that was alright.
Dabi would chase his soulmate to the end of the world, through hellfire and ice alike. This war had taken so much from him - his father's love, his mother's sanity, his and his siblings' childhood amongst them - and Dabi refused to let this most precious thing escape him.
Keigo had been a constant in his life for five years, and finding out that he was Dabi's - this enemy, this rival fighter whose skill equaled his own, whose mind was diamond sharp and lethal and just as beautiful as those gold-gold-golden eyes that had been all he could see all his life - had been motive enough.
Keigo could run. Keigo could run to the ends of the earth, hide and lie and scheme his way to whatever freedom he could cobble together, and in the end it wouldn't matter.
There was nowhere in this world that was far enough, no place concealed enough, no scheme strong enough to keep Dabi from the other half of his soul.
Keigo could run. Keigo would run, he knew, despite any overtures the League would make. But that was fine.
Dabi would find him.
If it took a while for Keigo to understand it, well - Dabi enjoyed a good chase every now and then. The enchanted marriage rope in its gorgeous shade of red-red-red burned a hole in his pocket, its presence a throbbing awareness just like the healing wound on his arm and, well.
Keigo looked all too lovely in red. Every shade of it.
end.