In Confidence

Bakugou sat at his throne once more, watching the banquet and court come alive. It had been a while since the start of this celebration, watching his guests gorge on food and merry on drink. His fingers rapped against the arm of his throne impatiently, staring off into nowhere in particular while his mind wandered. He recalled the last words his former warlock had told him and the look in his double's face, caked in dark makeup with strange outfits. If he had known he would face his double, he would've leveled the battlefield and not held back on his true power. Still, Bakugou scoffed inwardly at the state of his Anima.

And then, there was you, at least someone who looked like you, lying in his double's arms, clutching onto them as if life would slip from his fingers. The sight only rekindled his trust and faith in his former warlock's last words, knowing only that he would lose him forever for that one answer.

Upon recollection of his thoughts, his eyes found his way to you, spotting the same face while you appeared now in one of the throng of outfits offered to you by the chambermaids. Bakugou watched while you were greeted by Kirishima, his belly happy from the banquet table close by, while he spoke a few words, hopefully none too embarrassing for his liking. To his dismay, he had hoped you would have selected a piece that would match him. His eyes trailed along the outfit you wore - fitting across your curves and the shape of you seamlessly. He noticed the choice of fur on your person, even if it were modest in its placement across your left shoulder, and the cape attached that draped from it before he spotted Kirishima point towards the throne with a grin.

Following the Knight Commander's instruction, you turned to find the Crown Prince sitting by his large throne, his red eyes staring back at you. He looked awfully cross, and yet you couldn't fathom the thought that perhaps he was slightly mesmerized by the sudden change in your appearance, despite it only being a change in outfit.

"Hey, you should get that checked out," commented Kirishima, eyeing the bruise that began to appear across your cheek.

"I'll be fine," you reassured with a small smile, wincing a little from the taught dull feeling above your jaw. You gingerly grazed your fingers against the skin, the dull throb still tender from that slap to the face earlier that night.

"My Pearl could find something to ease the pain," continued Kirishima, frowning at the sight of the purple and reds emerging from your skin.

"Thank you so much for your hospitality, Sir Kirishima."

"Please stop being formal. I actually hate the title," joked Kirishima with a toothy grin.

For someone who was famed to be the most fearsome Knight in all of Tarragon, you found Kirishima to be somewhat genuine, pleasing, and welcoming. His treatment back when your lord made a scene was done gracefully while his second-in-command, his Pearl by the sounds of it, assisted him in every way.

You nodded your thanks to Kirishima before you strode towards the head of the ballroom with your shoulders held back and head held high. At the very least you wanted to show dignity, despite the bruise that formed on your cheek and feeling the eyes of many pierce into you like daggers, perhaps from the earlier mishap with your now former lord. You took Kirishima's advice and stood just shy from the throne, standing by Bakugou's side in court. To suddenly see everything from this side felt so different from the other. The room felt like it opened up to you, now able to observe the many guests and their mannerisms, their quirks and their flaws. You felt like you were on a pedestal, unable to be touched by anyone, and yet you felt almost as vulnerable as before, all eyes on you.

"What do you see?" Asked Bakugou beside you, making your heart leap in your chest. You glanced at the Crown Prince, still unmoving on his throne while he laid his head languidly in his palm. His eyes turned to you, waiting for your response.

"Um... your guests of honor, your people, your Guard-"

"No, what do you see?" He asked again, his red stare almost piercing through you.

The tension felt thick that it could've smothered you, yet the intensity he gave felt nothing like the condescending treatment you've dealt with over the course of your residence in Yarrow. Your eyes felt over the crowd of the nobility, your ear catching wind of particular laughter and hushed whispers while you assessed the court. With every nod of your head, your eyes would land on each person in the room while Bakugou followed suit, listening intently to your answer.

"Your Knight Commander Eijirou Kirishima, high accolades and the youngest Tarragon to attain such a title in over a millennia, or so the texts say," you started, your eye loosely on the redhead who conversed with his second-in-command. "Shame that he hides his true colours though. He's a magnificent black dragon."

Bakugou's eye quirked at your assessment, feeling a small prick of envy after hearing those words escape your mouth. You had been speaking with Kirishima for a lot longer than he would have liked, spotting that smile on your face at his hospitality.

The high-pitched trill of a laugh suddenly caught your ear, spotting a handful of nobility surrounding a young beauty close to the throne, her wrist quickly fanning her caked makeup and curls.

"The honorable socialite of Yarrow, daughter of a fairly eccentric and controversial couple in aristocracy," you explained, still watching the young woman flirting with many gentry. "One of them is the royal dance tutor." Then your ear caught the haughty laugh of someone familiar in the court, his tall frame undeniably obvious to the eye while he pressed his glasses atop the bridge of his nose.

"The High Commander of Yarrow, Tenya Iida, received many accolades, survived two crises in the kingdom of Yarrow, and now leads the charge in the protection and development of the kingdom's prosperity." You concluded. "Only, he was honored with this rank after the former High Commander disappeared in battle, or so the story goes. The venerable-"

"What story?" Interrupted Bakugou, turning your eyes to him, staring at you intently.

"Your Highness?"

"He supposedly died and his body was not recovered, along with Yarrow's half of the Sword, which is why Eyebright and Yarrow are not in good terms with each other," explained Bakugou. "You should know that better than most."

You bit your lip at the thought of his words ringing true. The kingdom of Eyebright had not looked eye-to-eye with Yarrow for some time since that incident. However, you were also saddened at your predicament, being stationed in Yarrow despite these sour relations. It made you wonder-

"Well, it's more rumors and hearsay. Things I've heard under the roof of my former lord," you explained. "There are many crooked narratives to it."

"Amuse me," ordered Bakugou, still with his head lazily on his hands.

You eyed the Crown Prince, still with his eye on you, feeling the nerves bubble in the pit of your stomach.

"And be discreet," he added in turn.

You swallowed to yourself, pursing your lips nervously before you lowered your head close to his, lingering close to his ear. The experience was surreal to be head-to-head with a royal of all people, for someone like him to entrust someone as mundane as you. Yet he sat with his eyes now on the crowd while his ear was open to listen.

"Word is that it happened on a full moon long before I was processed into Yarrow. The night had a chill in the air that pricked along the skin of those that would stand in the fog that covered the kingdom. There was an arcanic and unearthly guttural sound that echoed everywhere, and High Commander Midoriya went out to investigate. He disappeared into the fog, and has not been seen since. Rumors say that before he disappeared the ungodly sound of ravenous wolves and the shrill laughter of a devil was what rang through the kingdom. He and the Sword have not returned."

Bakugou's eyes still watched the large court, eyeing the few members that were loud, or obnoxious. Everyone celebrated for a day of peace and prosperity, for one of many where he will officially take his crown when the rituals are done and dusted. Yet he still felt you close to him, feeling that nervousness radiate from your breath.

"Is that all?" he questioned dryly.

It was then that the hitch in your breath gave way to your hesitance, realizing that you had started this tale only to feel your heart beating in your ears. There was no way you could take back the next words you uttered.

"... Yes, Your Highness," you reluctantly replied.

Your eyes slowly turned to glance at the royal, only to find his eyes now on you, piercing into you as if he were assessing your every word, every movement, and every breath. You swallowed hard at the sight of his steely gaze, only to hear a guttural growl echo in his throat.

Bakugou's eyes now perused through the crowd, at the cheer and the celebration, all empty of life in his eyes. Was this all a sham, a show of face, he thought, before he stood to his feet, garnering the attention of the court with every move he made. He held his head high, much like how you did not too long ago on that somewhat dreadful walk to his side.

"Honorable guests, I thank you for attending my ascension to the throne on this day. I am humbled by my people and their faith and trust in our kingdom of Tarragon. It will be a few more moons until the ritual is complete, but for now, tonight, we take in the comfort of Tarragon's hospitality. Eat and drink to your heart's content. I however have had enough entertainment for one night, and bid you all farewell."

With a bow, Bakugou was praised with a round of applause from all, nobility and commoners alike. Despite his gruff exterior, you were shocked to find his speech surprisingly formal. He stood with majesty and strength until he turned to you, signaling with a nod to follow after. You took haste, trailing after his red cape that flapped behind him with every heavy step. You had thought he would make the turn to the chambers where you had come from, but instead, he continued to walk through the court, heading towards the courtyards outside of the caverns, into the inner sanctum of the kingdom.

Despite the number of judgmental eyes on you, you found Kirishima with a grin, waving farewell. Along with him, the eye of the High Commander caught yours, his somewhat rigid turn in his glance sending a cold shiver down your spine. That was until something warm cracked through the surface, his frown turning into a small smile for a brief moment. It was perplexing, you thought it was a trick of the light from these gaslights everywhere, but it was something to keep bottled in your mind for the moment.

The red of Bakugou's cape danced in the wind as he stepped out into the courtyard decorated by the flora of Tarragon lands that overlooked the valleys below. Seeing the brilliance of the castle's architecture was still a sight despite you reading the many journals and texts that recorded all that was. The scent of spices from the variety of flora filled your lungs, it almost invigorated you while the moon cast its light across the paths that weaved between the greenery. It was only him and you, while the distant raucous cheers of the court echoed faintly inside.

You eyed Bakugou's back while he led you through the courtyard, and if not for the cape that mesmerized you, you could have sworn he was walking with a limp of sorts. Not from the legs, you were sure of that, but something across his right shoulder. Perhaps this was what captivated you despite the brilliance of his outfit, it was a sign of weakness that he did not openly show.

Then suddenly, he stopped.

You searched around to find yourself by a crossroad in the path, standing by one leading into an overhanging garden ahead.

"Why was your lord invited?" He asked, almost demanding an answer.

You froze, taken aback by such an abrupt question until Bakugou turned to step towards you, his figure imposing.

"He's no longer yours to protect," he continued with a sneer. "Answer me."

You stared up at his face silhouetted by the moonlight, his dark and stern glare captivating and yet engrossed with a smouldering rage, one that burned like the bowels of the volcanic bellies of his kingdom's mountainsides.

"... he was requested to attend by the Captain of his Corp," you started with shame in your voice, your eyes breaking away from his. "And I was his advisor."

"Eh? He was a mere soldier?"

"Lieutenant," you corrected.

"Doesn't matter. Why would someone so lowly have the right to the services of a warlock?" Questioned Bakugou. "Is the Yarrow Conclave just dense?"

"... they thought it best to assign one to a low-ranked soldier to avoid suspicion," you continued, still ashamed of your position in the matter. "They want to find reason against Tarragon for the theft of the Sword."

Bakugou's eyes widened at the words you spoke, yet you kept staring at the cobblestone path, avoiding what you would've felt was a disdained glare. The silence was unbearable, knowing the next few words may break what trust you had with the Crown Prince, whatever level of trust there was.

"A majority of Yarrow's army believe that Tarragon was behind High Commander Midoriya's disappearance," you concluded, drawing your gaze back into Bakugou's, his red glare unforgiving. "I despised the thought. I've tried to convince my former lord that it's not true. With everything they had described during the fog, it was nothing Tarragon. And yet he did not listen. No one did."

Bakugou scoffed under his breath, anger seething through his core that curled his lips into a deeper sneer. Frowning at this news, he turned towards the overhanging garden, entering through the path while you followed after. It was a short walk until it opened into a small pedestal accompanied by a long sword, ripped in twain down the center of its blade. It stood in the moonlight, untouched in the garden.

"That's-"

"The Sword of Treaty," interrupted Bakugou, his arms crossed while he eyed the sword before him. "Half of it. It was said that the Treaty was made between all three kingdoms. Eyebright split the Sword, and both Yarrow and Tarragon kept each half. I've only ever used it once, but Deku, he has the strength to continue to carry that burden."

You listened intently to Bakugou's story, deducting that this Deku he spoke of must have been the High Commander that disappeared.

"I brought you here to show you that the words you spoke are not true," he explained. "Those dirty Yarrow-"

"Your Highness," you interrupted, hitching your throat realizing what you had done. You gulped at the sight of Bakugou's eye on you, keeping track with your thoughts. "The whole kingdom isn't to blame, but I do agree with you that it's uncalled for. I never truly believed any Tarragon would go out of their way to break the Treaty. After all, it was both Queens who set that course for peace."

The mention of his mother, despite it being in passing, made his blood boil. Despite her setting this ascension ball, he wondered if it was a ruse to throw off this wild misconception about the former High Commander and his disappearance. Too many questions and not enough answers, words spoken by his former warlock before he left his servitude in another plane of existence. Bakugou scoffed under his breath, rolling his right shoulder while a twinge of pain shot through his spine.

"Your Highness?" You asked with concern.

"It's nothing," he immediately piped, walking towards the edge of the courtyard that rounded the walls of the castle. You followed him again, finding that the path led outside of the cavernous rooms and the castle walls towards a small patio, decorated by drop points.

You recognized them almost like diving platforms for-

"Are you a healer?" Asked Bakugou, while he removed his fur-trimmed cape, hanging the long silken fabric on a rocky outcrop that acted as a hangar.

"Not by the magical sense, but I'm adept in Tarragon physiology if that helps," you answered frankly, soon finding the long bruises that ran along the Crown Prince's shoulder blades, the formations and discoloration reaching down his torso.

"So you can't make a quick fix?"

"No, but I'm aware of Tarragon medicine, if there is stock necessary."

A quick scoff escaped Bakugou's lips before you witnessed his shoulders contort, sprouting out red-scaled wings from the blades. He cried in pain, gritting his teeth from the movements his wings could muster through the injury. You eyed his right wing, finding the skin still attempting to heal, torn by its seams and unable to move as freely as his left.

"What can you do?" asked Bakugou, his back still facing you.

You slowly approached him, your hand gently grazing against his skin while it trailed onto the scaley formations of his wings. The injury went so far to extend to them, finding the bruising had spread from the joint onwards. Yet despite the dull browns, his red scales glistened in the moonlight, twitching every so often due to the breeze high against the castle walls. You wondered what catastrophe would have caused such damage to his majestic wings, yet questioning was not the best approach. There were a few that popped in your mind.

"You've torn your wing quite badly, and the bruising looks to be in its healing process, so no medication would be needed except some icing to your shoulders. But..." your voice trailed while you eyed the tears in his wing, the skin membrane flapping loosely from the tears against the breeze. "You shouldn't be flying, at least for two moon cycles at best."

"What? You're grounding me?" He growled under his breath.

"If it's for the best health for your wing's recovery, then yes, I am advising you to. It may only be one moon cycle, since you've healed considerably already. Tarragon bodies tend to heal faster than most others without magical assistance. It must've been a horrible accident."

Bakugou thought back to that other plane of existence, rushing quickly to his double's aid. He pouted at the fact that he suffered the brunt of that meager rescue, sighing to himself before he contorted his shoulders once more, retracting his wings back into his body with no effort except for the hiss that refused to be silenced from him. You jumped back from the sudden motion of his wings disappearing from his back, returning to the purplish dark blemishes that ran its course across his back.

"You know a lot about my people," he commented, turning his red gaze on you.

"It was what I was raised to learn," you explained. "I learnt all things Tarragon. Your history, culture, physiology, even down to the most significant events that shaped your kingdom, including its seclusion, and its invention." You hands trailed against the rocky granite surface of the castle's walls, soon overlooking the valleys below the floating castle.

"It was my duty, and this whole time I thought I would be stationed here after completion of my training at Eyebright."

"And Yarrow took you instead," inferred Bakugou, watching your eyes saddened at the fact.

"I was shocked at first, excited maybe that I was finally on my journey to becoming a warlock, but I... disagreed... a lot." You tugged at your lips with a frown, feeling the dull throb of that bruise that still lingered above your jaw. Over time it became stiff that any talk may be difficult. This time around, your former lord gave everything in that slap.

"Where in Eyebright would you have known about Animas?" asked Bakugou, more curious than demanding this time.

"Huh?"

"Our attunement to Animas is common knowledge, but you mentioning Kirishima was a black dragon is something I noticed," he continued while he collected his cape in his arms. "How did you know he was a black dragon?"

You stared into the Crown Prince's eyes, filled with suspicion while you took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air, that eased the tension against your cheek.

"Well, Eyebright does have a collection of journals and notations written by a warlock on most things Tarragon. Called themselves The Magician and nothing else," you clarified.

"What did you say?" Interrupted Bakugou.

"Um... the Magician? Did you know him?"

"... no."

Bakugou glowered from the thought, perplexed by your words. Of course his former warlock, Seek, was an eccentric man, often flitted about doing his own business but never shied away from any duties his mother gave him for the kingdom. Yet his memory served as a reminder, always joking and jesting when Bakugou was a fledgling, a child, often calling himself the magician with tricks of the trade to amuse him.

Was this one of his tricks?

"We'd best be going back, Your Highness," you informed, breaking Bakugou's reverie.

"No," he interrupted, staring out into the night sky. "Too bad about my wing. I would've flown to my chambers if I could. I'm not returning back to that room of fools."

The sight of the night sky lit by only the moon was mesmerizing. Quiet and secluded, alone with him who stared out into the abyss while his eyes felt tired from all the formalities, and the exhaustion of social decorum.

"I could help you with that," you offered with your hand out to him. Bakugou stared at your palm, then at you finding that small smile on your face despite the bruise on your cheek, gentle and serene. "That is of course if you trust me."

With a raised brow at your offer, Bakugou took his large hand into yours, clutching onto your fingers with his. You couldn't tell if it was the heat of his skin on yours, but you felt something warm flush through your skin before you began to concentrate, feeling your feet levitate from the path. Soon you felt the magic swirl around you until it reached out towards Bakugou, taking him while he floated alongside you. He turned in the air with amusement, finding himself flying without his wings, under the control of your magic within your vicinity. You slowly released his hand, finding his body now levitating with you, floating in circles around each other slowly in the air.

For the first time, you saw a smile crack on his lips despite the stern look on his face.

"Where to, Your Highness?" You asked, while Bakugou turned his body around towards his balcony in view.

"There, the highest point in the castle," he answered, before he felt your hand grab his one more. "You better not drop me warlock." Soon, you led the way through the air towards the highest balcony, gracefully using the wind currents to help your trajectory.

Bakugou watched your form, floating and flying swiftly while he felt the shape of your palm in his. Seek's words would always echo in his mind, like a haunting memory that he now wished would disappear. Whatever feelings he had right now was premature, influenced by mere words and visions from other worlds, and yet he found you, serendipitously, if that was the cause.

Soon you reached his balcony, grabbing hold of the rocky outcrop that acted as the guardrails before you twirled in the air, halting your movements and sending him floating above you. The both of you stared into each other's eyes for a brief moment, feeling the lightness of the air between one another. His figure was imposing above you, now without his cape trailing behind his back, floating about in his arms instead. Before long, you pulled yourself onto his chamber floor, righting yourself before leading his feet to the floor as well.

Bakugou fell speechless of such magic, now weighted by gravity back in his quarters. He felt as light as a feather, with no sense of drag or force from the propulsion he would have to make with wings alone. He almost felt free, floating alongside you with nothing to hold him back. It wasn't long until he heard you climbing back over the balcony, your feet balancing on the rocky surface with no fear of the heights you stood over.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"We flew past my chambers below," you answered. "I'll make my way there from here. I'm not sure if it'll look kindly on you if someone found me walking out from your chamber doors."

It crossed his mind for a moment, yet Bakugou also didn't care much for it either. In fact, he would prefer if you did take the doors, walking out with a sense of pride and dignity, knowing that you were his.

"Have a good night Your Highness," you spoke, bowing your head in respect.

"Wait," halted Bakugou, throwing his cape haphazardly onto his bed and ambled around his room, grabbing hold of something from his bedside before making his way to you with a quick step. In his hands he held out a small bag, the smell of honey and mint wafting from it while you took the pouch from him, careful not to crush its contents.

"For your bruise," he explained. "Maybe it'll help you."

"Your Highness, you need it more than I do," you countered, attempting to give the bag back only for Bakugou to turn his back on you.

"Take it," he ordered.

Bakugou refused to turn his eye back on you, before you smiled, slightly wincing in pain quietly as to not cause any more worry in the royal. "Thank you Your Highness."

Bakugou did not hear anything more, just the scuff of your feet perhaps jumping from the ledge and disappearing from his chambers. He slowly turned to find just that, emptiness. Just the sky and the moon that greeted him that night. He rolled his right shoulder, recalling the way your fingers trailed against the bruises that continued to heal. His lips turned in a sneer from the sensation, wanting so much to hold onto your cheek, to heal you from the injustice you suffered. Yet all he could recall was that moment back in the castle's grounds, clutching onto your body in his, feeling you against him, knowing that he had found what he was searching for.

Still those words echoed in his mind again, of Seek's last genuine premonition:

Seek your intended, not by decree, but by the air from which they roam.

If he knew one thing, Seek never lied, but he was never straightforward either. Bakugou questioned the riddle-like fashion he would have on a play of words, but never had they suggested anything malicious. Taking you as he did would cause some dilemmas between the kingdoms, but the thought of anyone taking account of a lowly soldier's misfortune against that of his authority and noble blood would strongly favour his side of the story.

Still, he had only just met you. He had to proceed with caution, and for Katsuki Bakugou, heir-apparent to the Tarragon throne, Crown Prince to all of Tarragon's lands, was not one for caution.