Archive of Our Own

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Izuku could feel snowmelt seeping into his boots. He yanked his cloak around himself—it wouldn’t help the dampness, but he’d got it caught on something passing between two trees and wanted to check if it had torn. Somehow, he was growing sick of snow.

Dammit! It was. His sigh hung in the air in front of him in a cloud, which proceeded to gently spin as it drifted along the wind. Izuku sensed its passage behind him, and the small droplets that fell from it in lieu of a proper rain. It was nowhere near as impressive as the clouds a noble Elemental would have made, but he was still new to such work.

A gloved hand reached out, poking the tiny blob of mist. Izuku could, through his connection, just about feel it—a tingling, as his tiny cloud was absorbed by a force hundreds, thousands of times greater than it, able to create a storm fit to cover a continent, for whom the expenditure of will required to reshape Izuku’s petty creation was a trifle. This was a power Izuku knew well, and his heart raced as he waited for it to pass judgement.

“Beautiful. You’re really improving.”

Blushing, Izuku grinned back at his boyfriend. “Thanks! You don’t have to be nice, that one wasn’t—”

“No, no, it was excellent.” Aside from his small smile, the only thing peeking from out of Shouto’s hood was a few scraps of red hair. Izuku still felt the warmth from it. “Good form. Ideal levels of precipitation. We just need to work on the power you can put in, but that will come with focus.” His smile widened. “You’ll summon storms like your father yet.”

“O-okay!” Izuku was pretty sure the heat from his face could ignite the forest around him.

Swinging his head around, he tried to orient himself as best he could in a maze of identical-looking black, skinny, leafless trees. Let’s see, they’d passed the big rock a few hundred steps back, and they were still on the north side of the river, so the camp should be…hmmm.  Izuku narrowed his eyes, squinting down the heading he’d worked out.

This was going to be a problem.

“Shou…if we want to get back before sundown, we’d have to head through those brambles.” This was punctuated by a vague pointing in the direction of said brambles. “If we go through the old riverbed, instead, that’ll add some time—”

“I can handle it.” One hand pulled the thin blue sheet covering Shouto’s entire body tighter, more into himself, until all Izuku could see was that pale-gloved hand and a single, staring, blue eye. “It’s not inevitable that I’ll create a rip. Besides, I could deal with it if I did.”

Izuku gritted his teeth, hoping not to make this an argument. “I’m not…I don’t know. We can camp out here, I think? O-chan can wait another day for her map. It won’t date.”

“She can’t. And I know you want to see her as much as I do.” The air cooled with every word Shouto spoke, until the compass in Izuku’s hand began to burn with cold and he was forced to jam it into a pocket. “I’ve been training. I can hold in my power. I can do this.”

Izuku sighed. “You said that last time, Shou. And look what happened!”

“The arrival of Shattered-Ice-That-Cuts—of Geten was a complete coincidence.” Shouto had the good sense to cut off his use of a True Name before he’d finished, but the rime on the trees around them had still thickened with each syllable, growing points and fractured edges. “Even what was left of the Winter Court couldn’t control him, and you think Father could have? Face it, in this cold, he’d barely be able to see us, much less reach out a hand.”

“It’s not just about Endeavour.” Izuku pinched the bridge of his nose with one thickly-gloved hand, and winced slightly at the tickle of snow on his face. “We’ve been over this, Shou—your power stood out even in the Court lands. Out here, in the actual world, you’re like a second sunrise! If your veil even gets slightly torn, we may as well be starting a bonfire to tell every rogue Elemental or unscrupulous wizard ‘there’s something interesting over there’, and we don’t need that kind of attention. No-one does.”

“My veil isn’t going to be torn.” Shouto yanked his cloak ever tighter around himself, until only his one blue eye remained glaring out at Izuku like the beginnings of a coal seam fire. Pins and needles of hot and cold went up Izuku’s back, down along his arms, all through his body. “It’s going to be fine. We will get home tonight, and it will be fine. I can do this.”

Izuku folded his arms, and reached out, exerting his own power. A slight breeze ruffled the edges of his cloak. “Maybe the veil will stay on. Maybe no-one will see if it does rip. Maybe it’ll be fine. We can’t live off of maybes!”

“We still need to live.” The trees began to shake and tremble, half under the weight of their icicles, half from losing that weight. “Are you going to be guarding me from the whole world for the rest of our lives?”

“Kind sirs, I sincerely hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Out of habit, Izuku tilted his head upwards enough the pain in his neck made him wince, even though he knew well before seeing the source of the voice who it belonged to. “It’s…alright, Sir Tobita. I was just having a…discussion with Todoroki.”

Tobita perched on the edge of one branch almost delicately, like a hunting hawk, albeit one covered in cast-off pieces of half-rusted armour that clanked whenever it moved. “I see! Well, tis a foul day to be arguing so!” A twinkle was visible in his eyes, just narrowly, between his absurd bucket-helmet and his messy bush of a beard. “Prithee, shall we hie ourselves back to the sanctity and festivity of yonder camp, rather than stand here and dissemble love’s own bower with crude words and hurtful jibes?”

 Wincing, Izuku forced down the impulse to point out “Sir” Tobita’s wanton crimes against courtly language. Shouto, meanwhile, was grinning from ear to ear as he spoke. “I was warned there would be rough terrain in the way, noble Sire. I do hope you’re able to rise to such a challenge.”

“Why, never fear, your esteemed most highness!” Tobita’s mock bow was far forward enough Izuku felt he had to lean back, wary of falling snowdrifts. “You know, of course, that my skill in bouncing and tumbling is famed throughout the land. Why, I reckon yourself and your noble consort—” here he winked, although it seemed more of a squint from where Izuku was standing. “—should return to your lady love without suffering the slightest scratch on your countenances!”

That sentiment, at least, Izuku could agree with. He’d seen Tobita in action—once he’d unhorsed a whole brigade of actual knights with a wave of his hand, all while fleeing up a sheer castle wall. A few thornbushes would present no problem, and even making sure the veil remained around Todoroki wouldn’t be much extra strain. Travelling with Tobita could be annoying, especially without his “fair damsel” to rein him in, but his heart was always in the right place and he didn’t make false promises about his skills. If he followed along, they’d be back safe. Besides…

(Izuku gently fingered the token in his pocket, resting next to the map that had been several day’s labour in sketching. A single tin trading token, snapped in half, that could buy far more now than it ever could whole.)

…Shouto wasn’t wrong. He wanted to see Ochako too.

“Your help would be…most welcome, Sir Tobita.” Izuku could distinctly hear a giggle coming from Shouto, and smiled despite himself at the sound. “I would be grateful to have your sword pledged to my…to mine noble cause.”

“Ha-haaah! Then let it be so!” The tree-branch shook (a bit too much) from the motion, and suddenly, with a single flourish, Tobita was brandishing a gleaming ornate hilt, attached to a bent, rusty, blunted length of metal that Izuku might generously consider sword-adjacent. “Lead on, mine fellow noble knight! And let none bar the way to our righteous cause! Huzzah!”

“…a long journey, with many exciting events along the way, oh gem of my heart!” Tobita swung wildly out with one arm, the cape wrapped around it giving the impression he was attempting to catch the winds and take flight. “Why, that thunderous bulwark Sir Midoriya will tell you about the rock troll we encountered, which he slew only at a great cost!”

“It wasn’t a rock troll.” Izuku was glad making eye contact with La Brava was unfeasible in any case. He didn’t think he could keep a straight face. “It was a rock that looked a bit like a troll. And I didn’t slay it, I just tripped on it, hurt my face, and knocked a bit off the top of it when I jumped back off.”

“He’s too humble. You should have seen him in action, my flower of first summer!” Tobita gave Izuku a hearty and not-entirely-unwanted pat on the back. “Cutting his way through the forest, defending his sworn charge and betrothed partner from every cruel blow of nature. A sight to delight the heart, dazzle the mind, and confirm that our leader’s trust in him is beyond warranted.”

“I’m sure it was, my knight!” La Brava stroked her chin, the motion causing the bells on her motley and in her hair to jingle. “Why, I think this calls for a ballad…”

“Hahaha, sure, sounds good.” Izuku began slowly edging away from the campfire at the heart of camp, and towards the tents—towards one tent in particular, the large one of white canvas with a banner hanging out front. “Yeah, I had a lot of adventures with Tobita, but I think I’ve been summoned here to—”

“Oh, of course you can go!” La Brava had turned away entirely by this point, dropping down off the long she was standing on and rooting through the backpack that was practically her tent for some obscure instrument. “Don’t let me keep you from your lady, Midoriya. Give my best to Todoroki as well—I’m sure you two are going to talk.”

Tobita made a very good approximation of doffing his helmet, only slightly spoiled by the ridiculous feather plume nearly falling off as he waved. “Stand proud and upright, my companion of honour! Your deeds shall live on eternal…through song!”

Izuku waved back, a faint smile on his face.

They were a ridiculous pair—the mock knight and the real jester—but they fitted each other well. Maybe he was too harsh on Tobita, for not living up to his model of a knight, and maybe La Brava’s singing wasn’t the most useful thing to have around when they needed to hide, but the camp wouldn’t be the same without them. It’d certainly make for a much duller homecoming.

Looking back as he went, Izuku watched the people circling around the campfire, fading into silhouettes as he walked but still getting louder. La Brava had found her mandolin, and was plucking out a tune Tobita was attempting to sing along to with his inimitable verse. The sound was drawing others out—that thin shadow near the edge was Shinsou adding his pipes to the tune, that quickly-moving shadow was Mina leaping and dancing in front of the fire, that great big shadow in the middle was Rappa with a tankard in one hand banging it in time. It seemed like the whole camp was out revelling.

That was one of the things Izuku still wasn’t quite used to. Among humans, at least these ones who’d fled from their lords, celebrations weren’t strictly tied to the calendar, and didn’t have to be for giving tribute. If you wanted to eat, drink, and be merry, just out of the joy of being alive and having enough food, drink, and friends to do those things with, you could do that, without permission. You could live like you had no responsibilities.

Izuku sighed gently as he lifted the flap of the big tent. Of course, that only applied if you really didn’t have any responsibilities.

Ochako was bent over the table, a candle behind her, in a way which normally meant a briefing was imminent, but aside from that he couldn’t see much of the command tent’s inside—the torches weren’t lit, and (unless his senses were failing him) Shouto was still bundled up in the back, wrapped in his veil.

Izuku opened his mouth to speak, but Ochako put up her hand—silence. “Nope. Before anything, we need to sort this out.” She turned to Shouto. “Can’t have my best men fighting, can I?”

Izuku turned towards Shouto. Shouto turned towards Izuku. Both of them looked at each other, unspeaking.

“I’ll get the hat.” Ochako crossed her arms firmly in front of herself, glowering. The long chain of broken half-tokens around her neck jingled as she did so. “You can’t refuse orders if I’m wearing the hat. S’the law.”

Shouto cleared his throat. “I—I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“Just what?” Izuku stared, one hand on his hilt out of habit. “Shou, I want to protect you. It’s my job! I know I get strict about it, sometimes, but you’re in danger. You’re being hunted by your father, and even the human safety we’ve found has been temporary—uh, no offence, Ochako.”

“None taken.” Ochako had folded out a camp chair, by this point, and seemed content to sit and watch. “I ain’t the safest gal.”

“Right, but—I’m worried you don’t understand.” Izuku strained to keep tears from forming at the corner of his eyes. “I just don’t want you hurt, Shou, and, I’m sure, neither does O-chan. It’s for your own good!”

 “…I didn’t run away from my father because I wanted to be safe.” Shouto remained a faint silhouette at the edge of the tent. “I did it because I wanted to be free.”

Izuku took in a deep breath, and then another, and then another. They didn’t seem to work.

“I hate this stupid itchy veil. I hate running and hiding.” The candle on the table, already wavering in the wind, began to fade. “I hate having to calculate where I go, or what I do, just in case it draws attention! I hate that I’m not free, and I hate that you’re not free!”

The candle on the table blew out, leaving the tent pitch-black. Izuku’s breaths were coming faster and faster, almost circular.

“It’s not your job to protect me any more! I might have escaped my father, but you’re stuck bodyguarding me, and I know it’s chewing you up inside every time you have to order me about! Izu, I left because I wanted you to be more than just an empty suit of armour, and I want you to let yourself be that too!” The tent was echoing to Shouto’s cries by this point, its canvas walls shaking. “But I can’t! I have this power but I can’t change anything, I can’t change—”

“SHADDUP!”

Turning his head (how had it ended up on the floor?) Izuku saw Ochako’s face, illuminated by the light of a single candle.

“Ya can’t—this isn’t what I wanted to—should never ha’ woven that stupid thing—just stop an’ think! Of course we’re not totally free, now, but we don’t have ta be free all the way ta be free!” Even if there was no candle, the passion of her voice could have illuminated the tent. “Youse is the only person keeping yourself in prison, now! We’re here, in camp, here and now, and we’re free! We can live, for a moment! Just a moment!”

Oh.

Without a sound, the whole tent lit up with light.

The veil had been lifted.

With an inner eye, Izuku could see turmoil—two seasons meeting at one point of singularity—and with an outer one, he saw one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen. Light was beaming out from every corner of Shouto’s face, the gentle light of a fire and the pale light of reflected snow, shining off of his gold braid and his buttons and his buckles, picking out the edges of his tears.

“I didn’t—I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Neither did I. I’ve never wanted that.”

Izuku, by this point, had dragged himself unsteadily to his feet, high enough to see the heart of the fire in Shouto’s left eye and the heart of the gale in his right. With one hand, hesitantly, he reached out for Shouto’s shoulder…

…and was immediately shoved from behind right into his boyfriend, as he felt a warm presence at his back.

“No fighting any more, y’hear?” Ochako’s voice grumbled out from below his head. “We can’t have any disunity in dis revolt. The lords’ll break us up, and…”

“And what?” Shouto was smiling, sort of. His lips had definitely moved upwards.

“And I like seeing youse happy.” Ochako leant up, and tickled—or maybe placed a tiny kiss—on the back of Izuku’s neck. “So, you too, go be happy. Ahl’l…look over the map Izuku drew up, but you two gotta go outside. ‘s an order.”

Izuku cocked his head, and listened to the riotous noise coming through the tent-flaps, the sound of merry drunken peasants singing out in unison, happy to be alive. Shouto looked, for a moment, at him, and he nodded back.

The sound of Shouto clearing his throat was like a snowbank melting. “You should come outside as well, with us. You can wait another day for your map.”