#ayc ch2

Of course. As Bakugou’s personal protector, he would want to know what happened, and worse, who had dared to strike the prince. 

You ran your hand along the wooden table in front of you, pads of your fingers catching on the various dents and chips lining the wood paneling. How many times had you sat at this table throughout your life, studying to be the best advisor you could possibly be for the kingdom,  and yet, never were you as nervous as this moment, heart ready to crash its way through your ribcage as you watched the scene across the great hall.

Thus far, Bakugou hadn't sought revenge or punishment (something you were still highly suspicious of),  but if he was going to tell anyone what had happened, it would be his closest friend. 

Kirishima's brow furrowed once more as Bakugou smacked his hand away from his face, shoving the redhead as he shook his head. His gaze glanced up mid-rant, vermillion eyes catching yours before he tore them away, turning his shoulder to block your view of his mouth. 

It was a deliberate move, you realized, frustration rolling through you that you wouldn't be able to eavesdrop by watching their mouths move. Kirishima was no help, his lips pressed into a thin line that offered you no information other than the fact that he wasn't happy with whatever Bakugou was saying.

"When I requested that all my teaching be done in the great hall, my intent was for you to get better at focusing around distractions, not worse."

You startled at the voice of your teacher behind you as he took his seat, and you dipped your head respectfully in greeting. 

"My apologies, Lord Hakamada, I was just.." you trailed away then, unwilling to admit you'd been watching Bakugou’s exchange so intently. You turned to the older man, smiling sheepishly as you offered up an excuse. "I was lost in my thoughts, my lord, that's all."

He took a moment to study you, leaning back in his seat as his hand rubbed absently over the scar cutting across his cheek. It was a scar you saw almost daily, a deep jagged line cutting clean through his otherwise handsome features, and you felt a familiar sadness that you would never truly know what kind of hardships the man had endured. 

It had to be more than most, you assumed, given his past. It was pure luck that he had ended up as a teacher to both you and Bakugou. Your earliest memories were of him at the queen's side as her personal guard, until an ambush cut his fighting days short and permanently injured his lung. 

He'd still been healing in the days of Bakugou's worst rebelliousness, where the young prince had scared off one too many tutors with his attitude and pranks. That is, until the lord had volunteered to teach the two of you until a replacement could be found.

But, as fate would have it, he had turned out to be the perfect mentor for you both-  firm enough to take Bakugou's brashness in stride, and well-versed in the world enough to teach you both all you needed for your respective roles, despite the fact that he often claimed the two of you were more likely to send him to an early grave than any battle.

He’d been the one to step up when your father had fallen ill, so that you’d have more time to learn before filling in as the royal advisor, an action that would make you forever indebted to the older man, no matter how much he denied it. 

"I will admit. It must have been a good strike." 

Lord Hakamada's voice cut through your musings, and you focused your gaze back on him once again, opening your mouth to respond when a heavy weight settled into the seat next to you. 

"What was?" Bakugou interrupted, leaning back in his chair to prop his boots onto the table as you wrinkled your nose at his manners. He flashed you a grin, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, turning to face the lord as he spoke. 

“The blemish currently taking up half your face, my prince. One can’t help but wonder what could have caught you so off guard,” he mused, resting his cheek on his fist as Bakugou slunk further in his seat, avoiding the older man’s gaze.

“Did some poor soldier you were training with manage to catch you with a shield? Seems unlike you to allow someone that close without disarming them though. Were you distracted?” he pressed, clearly fighting back a smile as the blonde glowered at him. “Or perhaps, while flying, a low hanging branch managed to get past your acute spacial awareness and-” 

"Are you going to teach us, or are we going to gossip about my bruise? 'cause I'd much rather be with Drékrir than here-'' Bakugou snapped, making a move to stand, his boots thunking against the floor.

Lord Hakamada chuckled, and Bakugou quieted instantly as your teacher began to speak again, this time recounting the most current news on the kingdoms to the North and South. You let your gaze wander once more as Bakugou grumbled under his breath, replacing his feet on the table as he drew his knife, using it to dig at the dirt beneath his nails. You took in the worn leather on the soles of Bakugou's feet, up along the intricate pattern sewn into his pants, and the way the muscles along his stomach rolled and gathered due to his position before you paused at the sight of the blade strapped to his hip. 

You'd never fail to recognize his weapon, the handle inlaid with dark metal that mimicked scales. From the way it was positioned, you could just barely make out the outstretched dragon wings that were carved into the sword's crossguard, a bright red to match the color of his dragon. The sword had been designed by Bakugou himself, and the one month it took him to have it prepared and made was the most peaceful four weeks of your life, the blonde often too busy with his notes and designs to have time for harassing you.

His palm landed on the hilt absently, and you lifted your gaze. You winced internally when met with the sight of the bruise currently residing on his face, and a pang of guilt coursed through you. 

You truly hadn't meant to strike him that hard. Or at all, really. As if he felt your gaze on him, his head tilted towards you the moment your teacher had turned his back, vermillion eyes lazily raking along your form.

He made a point to lick along his bottom lip, over the scar that he received when you were both still children, before he flashed you a grin far more predatory than friendly. The action, though simple, was enough to make you huff and shift in your seat as you quickly broke eye contact, irritation flaring as he let out a snort of amusement. 

'...I'll have to settle down and start producing heirs.. I think it's only fair you help me practice...' 

The words that prompted the smack in the first place crept back into your head, and suddenly, you felt far less guilty than you did a few moments ago. 

You turned your attention back to Lord Hakamada, opting to ignore the blonde beside you in favor of your education, and managed to catch the final part of his updates. "... which means that the succession to the throne in the North is still on shaky ground." 

Your eyes widened in surprise, suddenly sure you'd missed something important as your teacher looked down at you expectantly, a brow raised. 

You glanced away in embarrassment, completely unprepared to offer any opinions, and mentally kicked yourself for once again letting Bakugou get you into trouble. Lord Hakamada sighed wearily, and you snuck a peek to see him shift his attention down Bakugou expectantly, the blonde shrugging in response. 

"Tch. Why do I need to care about the succession in the North? The gods have made it clear who the king will be here." he grinned, practically beaming with pride. 

"The king may find he is going to have a difficult time finding a wife if he can't figure out what's going on in the world outside of his kingdom." Lord Hakamada informed him dryly, a single brow raised. Bakugou's expression soured immediately and you didn’t bother to hide the huff of amusement that fell from your lips at the sight. 

His gaze shot over to you as his eyes narrowed and you smiled sweetly back, feigning innocence until his fingers rose to skate over his cheek in a casual reminder. Your smile fell immediately as you averted your gaze to your hands in your lap, fisting at the material of your gown. 

"Gods help me.” Lord Hakamada rasped, rubbing his eyes in response to the two of you. “Since it seems that the both of you are elsewhere today, I'm postponing our lessons for a review. A pity, given I would much rather be talking about the Great Dragons," he sighed. Bakugou sat up straighter in his chair, eyes lit with interest at the mention of the previous king's mounts. 

"Wait, I-" He began in protest, easily ignored by the older man as he spoke over him.

"The treaties we hold to the South and North were written and signed only a hundred years ago, as a way to protect each way of life from the bandits and marauders that plagued the three kingdoms, treaties that were suggested by your ancestors. " he nodded to Bakugou in acknowledgment, paying no mind to the younger man's sulking or the glare he was offered up as he continued. 

“And much like the two of you,” Lord Hakamada sighed deeply, as if teaching the kingdom’s future was more draining than guarding the queen. “This peace is..?” He looked pointedly at you, and you replied immediately, these specific teachings engraved in your skull at this point. 

“Young,” you replied softly, earning a nod of approval from your teacher as he continued his path around the table. 

“And?” He probed deeper, glancing down at Bakugou as he passed him. 

The prince rolled his eyes, gaze dropping to pick at his cuticle as he groaned. “Bored out of its mind?” He suggested, the faux smile on his face doing nothing to soften the smack that Lord Hakamada landed on the backside of his head as he passed. 

Bakugou yelped, grumbling under his breath as he dropped his feet back to the floor, rubbing at the back of his head. 

“Fragile, my lord, was the correct response,” Lord Hakamada supplied seamlessly as he rounded to the front of the table once more and braced his hands on it.

“However, I have faith that the both of you will do all that you can to help strengthen these bonds when the time comes. Whether you’ll do that as a team or separately still remains to be seen,” He finished dryly, brow raised as Bakugou rolled his eyes. 

“Speaking of teams, Bakugou, your mother asked me to speak to you.” 

Bakugou visibly stiffened beside you, his entire demeanor changing with just one sentence. Lord Hakamada paused for a moment, allowing the prince a chance to speak if he wanted to. For once in his life, though, Bakugou remained silent, stiffly staring at the older blonde across from him.

“She wanted me to remind you that at 24 years old, you need to be looking for a wife, or at the very least, a queen for the kingdom you’ll soon inherit.” You grimaced at the tense change in conversation, and wondered how annoyed your mentor would be if you simply slipped away, able to escape this topic when the prince could not. 

“You can tell that hag I’m gonna sire a bastard with the next woman I meet if she doesn’t get off my ass about gettin’ married,” Bakugou growled out from between gritted teeth and you swiveled to look at him sharply. 

“Bakugou, you can’t say that!” You hissed, and his gaze turned on you angrily. 

“Why? That’s what this is all really about, right?” he sneered, arms crossed. “Besides, why the hell should you care who I fuck?”

“Because I’m your advisor, and like it or not, whoever you knock up is someone I have to deal with as well,” you snapped back. 

Bakugou let out a sharp laugh, arms uncrossing as he stood. “Yeah, right. Maybe you’re so invested in my love life because you don’t have one.” he accused, his words cutting deeper than you’d expected. 

You must have let it show, because his angry red gaze softened slightly as you turned your face from him, jaw set as Lord Hakamada intervened. “Bakugou, that’s enough. Your quarrel is with your mother and her expectations, not your staff. Besides, it seems there’s more than one family interested in adding her to it,” he admitted, tilting his chin in your direction, and both you and Bakugou looked at your mentor in surprise. 

“There have been offers for my hand?” You asked incredulously as Bakugou scoffed, muttering under his breath and Lord Hakamada gave you a small nod, his gaze flickering to the prince. 

“But, that’s something for the Queen and King to speak to you about, not me,” he sighed, standing with a groan. “Now. The two of you have managed to wear down my patience for the day, so I’m cutting this lesson short. In return, both of you should expect an examination on inter-kingdom relations the next time we meet.” he warned.

You stood, dipping your head in thanks to Lord Hakamada before taking your leave, avoiding Bakugou’s gaze as you brushed past him. 

You weaved easily through the crowd in the great hall, and down one of the side corridors, mentally rearranging your day with your new-found time. Heavy footsteps echoed your own, and a moment later, Bakugou’s shadow fell over you as he walked alongside you, red cape brushing against the back of your hand. 

“What’re you rushing off to do?” he probed, and you set your jaw, pride still wounded from his earlier comment about your love life. It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, but you couldn’t help the sour feeling it had left you with. 

“You stink of dragon.” you muttered back, and he paused, lifting his cape to sniff at it before he shrugged, grinning as he easily caught up to you once more. 

“Y’know, most of the women I keep company with like the smell of dragon,” he leered, shoulder bumping against yours as if he was sharing some dirty secret with you. 

You spared him a half-hearted glare, already tired of his antics. “Well, most of the women you keep company with have bad taste,” you pointed out, and he frowned, straightening up again. 

He fell quiet, and your shoulders sagged in relief until a moment later when he spoke again.

“So, any clue who’s asking for your hand?” 

You answered him with silence, partially because you were tired of his presence but more so because you didn’t have an answer for him. You knew it was about time that marriage offers would be coming in, but without your father or mother alive to receive them, you hadn’t given it much thought. But it made sense for the king and queen to take over. They had promised your father that they’d ensure your future when he passed, after all. 

“I bet they’re old. Gods, it’s probably one of the houses like the Torinos. I’m willing to bet it’s one of those ugly fucks,” Bakugou laughed, and you frowned deeper, jaw clenched as he taunted you. “Or maybe it’s one of the soldiers, think one of them could have taken a liking to you?” he snickered. Despite your growing annoyance, you stayed silent, staring straight ahead.

“Oi, I’m talking to you, wildcat.” His fingers wrapped around a strand of your hair and pulled, hard enough to make your scalp sting. You whirled on him, nearly bumping into his bare chest with your sudden movement. 

“Do you take a special joy in torturing me, Bakugou?” you snapped, glaring up at the blonde. “And stop calling me that, you know I hate it.” He’d taken to calling you wildcat when you were children and he’d first realized how much he delighted in making you angry, comparing you to the stray cats that lounged around the palace grounds.

He grinned down at you, clearly pleased with your attention. Just like a fucking child. You thought crossly to yourself.  “But it suits you so well. All hisses and puffed up when you’re mad,” he hummed, fingers reaching for a strand of your hair again. 

You stepped back out of his reach, arms crossed. “I mean it, Bakugou, leave me be,” you warned, and he mimicked your pose, brow raised in challenge. 

“Or what, wildcat?” he pressed and you shot him a withering glare as you searched for a good response, eyes landing on his cheek.

“Or maybe I'll hit you again.” you immediately regretted the threat as soon as it tumbled from your mouth as his expression changed. His smirk dropped for half a second, and then he was closing the distance, canines flashing as he grinned down at you. 

“Go ahead, I won’t cover for you again,” he invited, leaning down and tapping at his cheek to show you where you could hit him. 

You shrunk back, guilt pooling at your stomach as you got a closer look at the bruise. Without thinking, you raised your hand, fingers smoothing over the angry skin as you chewed your bottom lip. His eyes widened in surprise, searching your face as you gathered your voice. 

“Why are you covering for me?” you asked softly, and he straightened quickly, easily pulling away from your touch as he snorted. 

“I don’t have to answer that,” he huffed, turning on his heel to leave the way you’d come. You stared after him in shock, irritation at his sudden mood change fueling your feet as you hurried after him. 

“Considering my future is in your hands,” you hissed, almost jogging to keep up with his quick pace, “I think you owe me an explanation.” 

He muttered under his breath, glancing at you in irritation as he took a sudden turn and you scrambled to follow. For once, his silence was not what you wanted, and you crossed your arms as you searched for a way to get him to talk. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Bakugou. I’m not leaving you be until you tell me why you haven’t sold me out.” you declared, and he stopped suddenly, staring at you incredulously. 

“Oh, I’m being ridiculous. What are you, thirteen?” he snapped, hands on his hips. You smiled sweetly up at him, gratification warming your chest. 

“You can’t just avoid me, my prince,” you cooed smugly. 

He glared down at you, jaw set before he leaned down suddenly, a sly smile melting over his features. Your cheeks heated as his breath fanned over your face, entirely too close to be appropriate as he spoke lowly. 

“Watch me, wildcat.” He took off, boots thudding down the hall as you gave chase, cursing yourself for wearing a skirt and cursing him for his long strides. He darted down a thinner hallway, and you prayed no servants would be coming in the opposite direction as you followed him. 

You sped up as he reached the end, sure that he’d just dart out the door and that you’d definitely lose him once he was outside the palace. But he must have thought you were farther than you were, stopping short and turning with a smug grin, one hand on the wooden door to open it. 

His eyes widened in surprise as you tried to stop, feet tangling in your skirt and sending you barreling into the blonde’s chest. The open door provided no stop to the momentum as he tumbled backwards, arms closing around your body in an attempt to stabilize himself.

He cleared the dirt path leading away from the door as his back hit the grass, taking you with him as he rolled. Sunlight warmed your skin and grass dampened your clothes as you shrieked, sure that he’d crush you by the time you stopped tumbling. 

He let out a grunt when his back hit the grass and you landed on top of him, both panting heavily as you dragged your gaze to meet his. Wide eyes met your own as you were suddenly aware of his hands splayed across your hips, of his thigh wedged between your own. Ruby eyes stared back at you, and you opened your mouth to apologize when a tiny blade of grass drooped from the blonde's hair, its tip resting between his eyes perfectly. You couldn’t help the small giggle that bubbled up in your chest at the sight, fueled by his chest rising below you as he tried to contain his own laughter. 

Soon, you were both erupting into giggles, only encouraged when one of his hands left your hips to tug a stick from your hair. You couldn’t help it after that, the past situation was just so ridiculous. You were both grown adults, a prince and his advisor at that, and here you were chasing each other down the palace halls, and rolling down hills.

His laughter subsided before yours did as he watched you, a soft smile gracing his features. He made no move to stand, only shifting beneath you, his hands warm on your waist. Your gaze met his and for a split second, you’re very aware of an uncomfortable flutter in your stomach. 

“Y’know, if you wanted to be on top of me so bad, all you had to do was ask,” he grinned. The flutter died out as you made a sound of disgust, shame washing over you at the realization of how improper you must look. His hands were suddenly uncomfortably warm on your hips and you shoved them off as you stood, hands flat on his chest as you pushed. 

He let out a grunt as you stood, brushing grass and dirt off your clothes as you glared down at him. “I should’ve known you’d do something like this,” you accused, and he sat up sharply, elbows resting on his knees. 

“I didn’t do anything, you’re the one that barreled into me and knocked us down. I was going to use the path,” he snapped back, pointing up the hill and you followed his finger, if only to hide the embarrassment on your face. 

“Still,” he grunted, rising to his feet. “This is a faster way to the dragons, so I guess I should thank you,” he muttered, already stomping away from you as you turned to look at him. 

“I’m not done talking to you!” you called, and he waved a hand in dismissal, boots flattening the grass beneath his feet as he disappeared into the treeline. You chased after him, muttering curses under your breath as you followed him into the trees. 

Shortly after, you broke into the clearing, sun blinding you momentarily as you squinted, blinking until your eyes adjusted. When they did, you sucked in a sharp breath, greeted by the sight of Bakugou’s massive dragon in the clearing ahead, his red scales glinting in the sun. 

Drékrir was large for a dragon of his age, but even without his sheer size, he was intimidating. Hard plates ran along the expanse of his snout, horns jutting proudly from his jaw and the top of his skull. 

At the sight of you and Bakugou, his head lifted, green eyes dilated as he watched you both. He lay stretched out, clearly enjoying the summer sun, a carcass pinned beneath his clawed foot.

Bakugou whistled lowly, and the great dragon rumbled back in response, muscles relaxing once more as he returned to his meal, long tongue dragging over the pelt of whatever poor animal he’d caught.

You shook yourself, stepping in Bakugou’s footsteps as you followed far slower. Bakugou turned to glance at you over his shoulder, grinning at your sudden quiet, and you huffed, your strides quickening as you came back within speaking distance.

Bakugou’s head tilted towards his dragon as it lifted its head lazily again, eyeing the two of you as you came closer. “You know, you can’t just fly away from all your problems,” you pointed out, crossing your arms over your chest, still trying to calm your pounding heart.

“I can fly away from this one.” he hummed in response, walking backwards towards his dragon. Drékrir lazily swept his tongue over the boar he held beneath his claws, a low rumble rising from deep in his throat, and for a moment, Bakugou’s cheeks flushed. 

“This wouldn’t even be a problem if you would just grow up and tell me what you’re trying to get by covering for me.” You pointed out, and his gaze darted to you for a moment before back to Drékrir, his mouth opening and shutting quickly as you continued. “Really, Bakugou, this is ridiculously immature, even for-” 

“Enough! I can’t juggle two conversations at once!” Bakugou threw his hands up in frustration, a groan erupting from his mouth as he looked between you and Drékrir in annoyance. You flushed in embarrassment, momentarily forgetting that the bond they had allowed the two to communicate within their minds, Drékrir huffing at his rider’s outburst.

You quieted as he glared at his mount, watching the blonde’s face occasionally twitch with different emotions. It was fascinating, you had to admit it, the large dragon seeming to continue the conversation without needing to vocally call out to his rider.

Drékrir lifted his head suddenly, eyes staring down at you as he let out a quiet chuff, the warm gust of air from his maw rustling your clothes. Your gaze met his, and you instinctively wanted to look away, acutely aware that you were probably nothing more than a nuisance to the large creature at this moment.

Bakugou stepped forward then, and Drekrir’s attention swiveled to his rider, eyes closing as his hand pressed against his snout. Despite the current argument you were having with the blonde, you smiled at the gentle interaction, at the way both volatile individuals seemed to find peace with each other. 

Bakugou’s gaze flickered to you once more and he huffed in irritation. “You’re still here?” 

Your smile disappeared, replaced by a scowl as the prince returned his attention to Drekrir as the large creature reached once more for his kill, the gentle nosing he gave Bakugou enough to make the blonde stumble. “Didn’t you just come back from a flight?” you shot back, and Drekrir paused in his pursuit to chuff again, as if he was laughing. 

Bakugou’s hands were firm, shoving the large creature until the red dragon shook his head with a growl and began gathering his limbs beneath him. “Gods, you stalkin’ me or something? I’m going on a fuckin’ hunt.” 

“Well, maybe I’ll join you,” you threatened, and Bakugou paused mid-step, one hand wrapped around the dragon’s horn as he hung off him, glowering at you. 

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, grunting as he hoisted himself up on his dragon’s neck, arms outstretched for balance as he walked down the red dragon’s spine.  “You and what mount? A Kharn? You and I both know you wouldn’t be able to keep up.” 

You frowned at that, knowing he was right. The horse-like creatures most of the people in and around the palace rode were fast, and great for hunting with their acute sense of smell and tough paws, but nothing could keep up with a dragon.

He sat heavily atop his dragon’s shoulders, thighs splayed out as he got comfortable, and you took a half a step back as Drékrir stood suddenly, his wings stretching out wide enough that he blocked the sun momentarily. 

You swallowed thickly, intimidated by the dragon’s large size before forcing yourself to turn your attention back to Bakugou who now grinned smugly down at you. “Y’know, on second thought, if you want to come with so badly, hop on up,” he invited, brow raised sarcastically. 

Drékrir turned to you then, large head lowering to gaze at you. You froze, eyes wide at the dragon’s clear offer, even as he tipped his horn closer to you. For a moment, you considered it. You considered taking his horn in your hand and allowing yourself to abandon all your duties for the day, beyond the palace and high in the skies, the sun warm on your skin.

“Well? I don’t have all day, wildcat,” Bakugou huffed, and you snapped out of your daydreaming at the sudden reminder of his presence.

“Some of us have duties here that we can’t run from.” you murmured as you stepped back, trying not to let disappointment bleed into your voice as Bakugou shook his head. 

“That’s your problem, right there,” he sighed, shifting to pull his hood over his head as he leaned forward in preparation for takeoff. But Drékrir remained where he was, his head still lowered to your level. You met the large creature’s gaze, both of you staring curiously at one another before Bakugou spoke again, his voice heavy with impatience. 

“Drékrir, let’s go. She’s not coming.” 

Drékrir snorted in response, withdrawing his head to stare up at the sky as he let out a rumble so low you felt it vibrate through your chest. His wings spread once more, giving you a glimpse of the vibrant orange that dotted the undersides, and Bakugou glanced down at you, calling out above the dragon’s rumbling. “Cover your eyes, wildcat, you’re gonna get blinded!” 

You stepped further back as the prince’s gaze left you, doing as you were told, but managing to peek at the sight of their takeoff from beneath your hand. Drékrir let out a roar as he rose to his hind feet, his wings stretching out far above his head. They cut downwards quickly, stirring up the dust and leaves on the ground beneath him and forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut. 

You stumbled a bit from the sheer force of the wind his wings created as he lifted off, and when you next opened your eyes, he and the prince were heading into the distance, red wings soaring smoothly.